The Wolf, The Witch and The Art Thefts
by rembeau
Summary: The ongoing adventures of Alastor "Mad Eye" Moody and Remy, the animorph wolf. In this story, Remy goes to school ... Hogwarts ... while Mad Eye must try and track down some stolen art in Siberia. Lots of familiar JKR characters (pre Harry of course) and some of my own creation. Makes more sense if you read Alastor Moody And The Wolf first.
1. Prologue

Prologue

The room was dark. Very dark. The only light seemed to be a small flickering candle in the corner of the room, although it cast more shadows than light. The rain outside lashed against the windows, proving that the room had a window, even if it was invisible in the darkness, and the wind howled under the door. It was the perfect night for sitting huddled up in a cosy room, warming your feet by the fire. This wasn't a cosy room, and there wasn't a fire.

The cloaked figure slid surreptitiously into the room. Their entry may have gone completely unnoticed, had it not been for the brief shaft of light that tried to poke it's way into the darkness, only to be snuffed out by the thud of the heavy wooden door closing once again. The silence in the room was palpable.

There was a faint rustling from the corner and a second hooded figure leaned forward in a chair.

"Have we recovered the ... items?"

The voice was deep, rich, sensuous, and unmistakably feminine. The standing figure bowed slightly.

"Er. We ran into a few minor technical problems."

This second voice was male and gruff.

"In what way?"

There was a light shuffling of the feet, as though he had information to deliver that he knew would not be well received.

"It would seem that some of our activities have attracted the attention of the Ministry. Our operatives barely made it away cleanly."

"So what do we have?"

"Nothing." Suddenly, he could see two small glowing purple orbs in the darkness, right where her eyes should be. He shivered involuntarily. "He hurriedly added. "But the good news is, there was only one there. The second was not genuine. It must still be in Russia."

"And the genuine one?"

"It was taken by the Ministry."

"Hmm, well it is of no use to them without the other and the key. And we have the key."

"We do?"

There was a momentary flicker of light. He leaned closer and could just make out what appeared to be a light colored straight walking stick, with an ornate golden top. He could also make out what appeared to be a prone figure on the floor, with the head at a really strange angle to the torso. He concentrated on the stick.

"Yes, we do. But it is of no use without those items. Well, if one is in Russia, we should be able to track it down. I have contacts there. I'm sure we can put them to use finding it, if the money is right. Always money with these Muggles." There was a tone to the voice that turned the air in the room colder. "And the Ministries item?"

"They're delivering it to a place of safety."

The female voice chuckled. "Ah, yes. A place of safety. Well we can guess where that might be. So, we just need to retrieve that item before the Ministry find the other one."

"Are you sure it's wise to press on so quickly with this scheme? Maybe we should wait until things have calmed down."

"You're doubting me?" There was genuine incredulity in her voice.

"No. No. Not at all. It's just ... well ... it could be ... tricky."

She laughed. "Relax. What could possibly go wrong?"


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Remy walked quietly beside Mad-Eye. The path was dark and it was raining and he could think of a dozen places he'd rather be right now. Mad-Eye kept going at a constant pace, skilfully avoiding the worst of the puddles without even breaking stride.

The turrets of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry swam up out of the darkness. Remy thought it looked more like a castle than a school. They walked up the main path through the gateway. The door was opened, shining a light into the courtyard. Remy could see a tall figure silhouetted in the doorway. Mad-Eye didn't slow his pace. The figure stepped forwards to meet them.

"Good evening, Alastor. Remy. Terrible weather I'm afraid."

"Evening, Albus. Worst of the storm is just about to hit. Should pass in an hour or so."

"Well, come on in. Get dry." They followed Dumbledore inside. "The place is quiet right now. There is a concert in Hogsmeade. Most of the students were eager to go to brighten up their weekend. The majority of the staff thought it was a good idea to accompany them."

"Sorry if we altered your plans, Albus."

Dumbledore waved his hands dismissively. "No, not at all. I'm actually glad of the excuse not to go. The high spot of the evening is a soprano who managed to shatter the glasses of our old Astronomy Professor last year." He shuddered. "I prefer my hearing to remain as intact as possible, thank you."

Mad-Eye had handed the briefcase he was carrying over to Dumbledore, and slipped his travelling cloak off and shook it to get the worst of the rain from it. "Remy …"

Remy was too busy staring around to hear. There were paintings on the walls, but all the characters in them were chattering away to each other. A ghost floated past and tipped his head in greeting.

"Good evening."

Remy watched, open mouthed.

"Remy!"

Remy spun around, wide eyed. "Huh?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "Alastor, please tell me the boy has seen ghosts before."

Mad-Eye sighed. "Yes, he has, and moving pictures."

"That ghost. His head is barely attached."

"Ah yes," explained Dumbledore. "That was Nearly Headless Nick."

"Cool!"

Mad-Eye rolled his eyes. "And that's his favourite word."

Dumbledore smiled as Remy shook the rain water from his cloak. "Shall we head to my office?"

He set off down one of the corridors with Mad-Eye beside him, chatting about people Remy had never heard of and places he'd never been. Remy trailed along behind them slowly, still fascinated by the all the new sights.

"Remy!"

Remy looked around and realised he'd fallen well behind. He ran quickly down the corridor and slid to a halt by the two men.

"Cool. These corridors would be great for skateboarding."

"No, Remy." Mad-Eye glared sternly at him. "No skateboarding down the corridors. Or inside here at all. Got that?"

Remy hung his head. "Got it."

Mad-Eye ruffled his hair. "Good. Now keep up."

Remy walked into Dumbledore's office and looked around in wonderment. It wasn't the fact that the room was circular that was amazing him. It was the books. He'd never seen so many books outside of a bookshop before. The walls were lined with them. There were portraits all around the room and a roaring fire was blazing in the fireplace. The large desk to one side had a pile of paperwork on it and various quills, yet it was neat and uncluttered. There was a short flight of steps to a raised area with more books and a globe of the moon, similar to the one Remus had bought him for Christmas, yet bigger, and older too from what Remy could tell. He looked around, trying to take it all in.

"Remy." Mad-Eye sounded a little exasperated.

"He's fine, Alastor. Leave him looking. Tea?"

Remy examined the bookshelves, noting the extremely wide range of topics covered. One of the portraits smiled at him.

"Hello there."

Remy blinked. "Um … hi."

"Welcome to Hogwarts. I haven't seen you before. New student are you?"

"Um, maybe. Dunno."

"Ah, well, this is an excellent school. You'll fit right in."

"Thanks."

The portrait smiled again and resumed his position. Remy carried on his explorations, completely oblivious to the fact that Mad-Eye and Dumbledore were both watching him while they talked.

Suddenly Remy stopped dead in his tracks and looked up the flight of steps. The golden bird on the perch looked back down at him. Remy tilted his head to the right. The bird copied him. Remy looked round excitedly at Mad-Eye and Dumbledore.

"Is that …?"

"A phoenix? Yes, Remy, it is. That's Fawkes, my familiar."

Remy gazed at the phoenix in awe. "I didn't think they really existed. I've read about them in books, but I thought they were extinct."

Dumbledore smiled. "Oh, he's real, Remy. So what have you read about the phoenix?"

Remy tilted his head to the left, thinking. Behind him, Fawkes copied his head tilt. "Well I know it appears in a lot of cultures. It's a mythical bird, a fire spirit, usually colorful with a gold and scarlet tail. Builds itself a nest and ignites it, reducing itself to ashes, and then it's reborn. Never really worked out how that happens, but I guess that's why the Japanese call it the Immortal Bird. Oh, and their feathers are said to be magical, which is why they make good wand cores."

Dumbledore nodded appreciatively. "Well done, Remy. You really have been reading books, haven't you?"

Remy colored slightly and studied the floor.

Mad-Eye chuckled. "Remy only reads if he's really, really bored. Or if he thinks no-one's watching."

Remy pulled a face at Mad-Eye and turned his attention back to the phoenix.

Dumbledore smiled. "Would you like to see him fly?"

Remy spun around, his eyes shining brightly. "Yes please!"

Dumbledore stood up and motioned to Fawkes, who took off with a couple of quick wing flaps. He glided across the room, circling the main area, before dipping and flying past Remy, back to his perch.

"Wow! He's amazing."

"Thank you, Remy. It's not that long since his last Burning Day, and he is looking especially bright at the moment."

Fawkes took off again, this time calling in a rich, mellow tone. He circled Remy's head. Remy tilted his head back and whistled in return, before holding his arm straight out. Much to Dumbledore's amazement, Fawkes landed on Remy's arm and slowly walked up towards his shoulder. Remy gently stroked Fawkes neck.

"You're beautiful, fella. You really are."

Fawkes tilted his head back and squawked. Remy grinned and tickled him under the chin. Fawkes reached round and plucked a medium length golden red feather from his back and offered it to Remy.

"Thanks, fella."

Remy stuck the feather behind his ear as Fawkes flew back to his perch. He beamed at a non-plussed Dumbledore.

"He's brilliant."

"I've never seen him act like that with a complete stranger before."

"Remy has a way with animals," offered Mad-Eye, with a grin.

"So I see."

Remy grinned sheepishly and sat down on the chair Mad-Eye pointed to.

"So how old are you now, Remy? Thirteen by my reckoning." asked Dumbledore.

"Yeah. Thirteen."

"Alastor tells me you have a flair for the Dark Arts?"

Remy shrugged. "S'pose so. Dunno."

Mad-Eye frowned. "He's a quick learner, when he wants to be. And a pain in the arse when he wants to be too."

Remy just grinned.

"I seem to remember you telling me once that you weren't keen on the idea of school."

"I'm no good at school stuff. Never have been. Too boring. Rather be skateboarding."

"Hmm. Well, that remains to be seen. This isn't your average Muggle school."

"Uh huh." Remy looked unconvinced.

"So, at thirteen, that makes you a third year, although with no educational background to speak of, no offence, Alastor, I think we should keep a close eye on your progress. You may need extra classes to catch up."

Remy still looked unconvinced.

Mad-Eye reached over and ruffled his hair. "We've talked about this, Junior. I have to go away for a while for work, and this time you can't come with me. I need to know you're in a safe place. If you really can't settle, we'll rethink it when I get back."

Remy sighed. "Yeah, I know."

Dumbledore shuffled some papers on his desk. "So, as a third year, you get to chose some of the subjects you take. Any preferences?"

Remy shrugged. "Dunno. What's the choice?"

Dumbledore peered at his papers. "Well, Care of Magical Creatures seems like it may be a good choice for you."

Remy nodded a little more enthusiastically. "Fine by me."

"Very well, you just need one more. We have Arithmancy, Divination, Muggle Studies, or Study of Ancient Runes."

Remy frowned. "Arithmancy … is that like maths?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "Yes, Remy, it's the magical equivalent I suppose. Arithmancy is the branch of magic that deals with numbers, exploring their magical properties."

Remy shuddered and shook his head. "Definitely nothing to do with maths. I'm useless at maths. Oh, and Divination is bogus. Not going there either."

Dumbledore smiled and drew a neat line through those choices.

"Ancient Ruins? Like studying old buildings?"

Dumbledore laughed. "Not ruins, runes. It's a mostly theoretical subject that studies the ancient runic scripts of magic."

Remy frowned. "Sounds like a lot of reading and not much else."

Dumbledore drew another line. "Muggle Studies it is then. You could always add Muggle Art or Muggle Music to that if it sounds a little too boring for you."

Remy shook his head. "Nah, it'll be fine as it is thanks, Professor."

"You like music," mused Mad-Eye. "Always listening to his music."

Remy frowned. "I like listening to it, not learning about it."

"Can you sing?" asked Dumbledore. "The choir are always looking for new members."

"Nope. Definitely not." Remy's face was set in a determined fashion. "I don't sing."

"You play the guitar," offered Mad-Eye, earning himself a baleful glare from Remy.

"Not to an audience I don't."

Dumbledore smiled. "Well you can always elect to take those classes later if you wish. They're extra curricular anyway. Can you fly?"

"You mean on a broomstick?"

Dumbledore nodded patiently. "Yes, Remy, on a broomstick."

"Yeah. I s'pose."

Mad-Eye rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I swear, Remy, sometimes you try my patience so far past the point of breaking … Yes, Albus, he can fly. He's not too bad at it either."

Remy shrugged and stared at the floor.

Dumbledore suppressed a smile. "Well I think we'll pencil you in for flying classes anyway. Just to make sure." He made a few more notes. "So, the morphing. Is that under control now?"

Remy shrugged and kept staring at the floor.

Mad-Eye chuckled. "Mainly under control, yes, Albus. There are times when he doesn't mean to transform, but they're getting rarer. If he's too tired, then he has problems changing back, but usually if he goes to sleep as the wolf, he can wake up as himself. As long as he can morph if he feels the need to, he should be fine."

Dumbledore nodded and smiled. "I'll bear that in mind. However, I believe it would probably be in Remy's best interests if he did not advertise the fact that he's an Animorph. There are some students here whose parents may take the view that a wolf in the school could be dangerous, and I feel it would be best for all concerned if as few people knew about this as possible." He looked questioningly at Remy.

Remy met his eye, thinking about that. It probably would be better if he wasn't considered to be the local freak show before he'd even started. He nodded. "Fine by me."

"Well, I think that's all I need to know for now. We'll take good care of him, Alastor. I'm assuming if we do have a problem, contacting you will be impossible?"

Mad-Eye nodded. "Aye. At least for a few weeks anyway. I'll send word when I'm back. If you do have a problem, there are a few at the Ministry who can help. Fitz would be a good start. Or Remus, although he's currently out of contact too."

"And I assume from the lack of luggage that Remy does not have a uniform, or any of the books or equipment he'll be needing."

Mad-Eye shook his head, somewhat sheepishly. "Things moved too fast. He has the backpack, and that's it. He probably has some of the books at home, but I didn't have time to go get them. Remus can probably send them on when he gets back. And Fitz could possibly sort out a uniform. I'll send him a message."

"I'd appreciate that, Alastor. In the meantime, I'm sure Remy can find the books he needs in the library."

Mad-Eye stood up. "So that's sorted then. I'll leave that with you." He nodded to the briefcase beside Dumbledore's desk.

"I'll take good care of it." He looked at Remy as he spoke, and Remy wondered whether Dumbledore was referring to him or the briefcase.

"Any objection to my using your floo to get on my way?"

Dumbledore waved his hands. "None at all, old friend."

Remy sighed quietly. This was the part he'd been dreading.

"Ok, Junior. Time for me to go. Now you remember what we talked about. Just try your best, and try to stay out of too much trouble. Ok?"

Remy nodded. "I'll try."

"Good boy. Come here." Mad-Eye hugged Remy to him tightly and whispered in his ear. "I'll be back before you know it."

Remy hugged him back tightly and managed a grin as he whispered back. "Give 'em hell."


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Remy ate his breakfast quietly. Well, picked at it quietly. The food was good, and there was plenty of it, and lots of choice too, but he just wasn't that hungry. There were too many new things to look at. And way too many people. Remy wasn't a fan of people, and lots of them in one place at the same time always made him somewhat wary.

All the pupils were seated at four long tables, one for each of the four houses, with the younger pupils at the front nearest the teaching staff, and the oldest at the back, nearest the exit. There didn't seem to be a ceiling, as every time Remy looked up, he could see the sky. However, he could also see that this particular sky appeared to be covered in candles, and since there were no puddles on the floor despite last nights rain, he assumed the lack of roof was an optical illusion. Or more probably, a magical illusion.

The teachers, or rather the Professors, were all seated at a long table at the front of the room, on a raised dais at 90 degrees to the students tables. Well at least that was where they were supposed to be seated. It seemed breakfast was served over a period of time and not all chose to eat at the same time. As an early riser, Remy decided that early was a good time to eat, as there were quite a number of empty places at all the tables.

All the students in Gryffindor had made Remy feel welcome when they had returned the previous evening, even if a couple of them had asked a few too many questions for his liking. Still, he'd managed to avoid answering most of them. He was pretty sure he could remember some of the students names too, especially the ones he was sharing a dorm with. There was Gideon, the tall, slim, dark haired boy, who seemed to be in a permanent state of worry. Rob Munroe, the fair haired boy currently sat opposite him, shovelling large quantities of sausages into his mouth at such a speed that Remy was sure he was going to be sick later. And Oringo Daniels, a slim boy from London, with dreadlocks and a passion for football, even if he was an Aston Villa fan. Remy wasn't entirely sure how a boy from London ended up supporting a team from the Midlands, but since Remy was a Liverpool fan from New York, he figured he had no right to question it. Oringo, or Danny as everyone called him, had even managed to find a spare jumper that, although a little worn and slightly too big on Remy, wasn't too bad a fit, as long as he rolled up the sleeves. The other bed had been empty, although from the items around it, it seemed that it was normally occupied. He hadn't asked, and no one had made any comment.

Remy chewed a piece of toast with little enthusiasm as he looked around the room. There was a sudden flurry of activity and several owls flew into the room, swooping low over the tables and dropping letters and packages. Remy watched with a puzzled expression.

"Owl post," explained Rob. "Always arrives at breakfast. You got an owl?"

Remy shook his head. "Nope."

"Well if anyone sends you post, this is how you'll get it. If you need to send post to anyone, the school has owls you can use. They're in the Owlery. I'll show you after breakfast."

Remy grinned and nodded. "Cheers. Beats Postman Pat and his stupid cat."

A package landed with a thud a little lower down the table. "Great. My astronomy book, finally."

There was a crashing noise at the table behind them and several cries of exasperation.

"Tonks!"

"Hey, I was eating that."

"Tonks, can't you get that damned owl to just drop the letter like everyone else's. He's had three years to practise."

Remy looked around. A dark haired girl was retrieving a soggy looking owl from a bowl of cornflakes.

"Sorry guys, but he just forgets to let go." She saw Remy looking and held the owl up with a grin. "Second time this year."

Remy grinned back. "Good job he wasn't bringing anything heavy."

Tonks laughed. "He was last time. New text book my dad sent me. He landed in Erica's porridge. I was still cleaning the stuff from his feathers two days later."

Erica, opposite her, groaned at the memory. "Yes, and I was still cleaning the stuff from my hair two days later too."

"Serves you right. You should have been eating toast. Wotcha, Charlie."

The red headed fourth year boy slid into his space at the table, beside Remy. "Hey, Tonks. Your owl crash landed again?"

Remy grinned. "Good job you don't like jam in your porridge Erica, or you'd have been cleaning the stuff 3 days later."

Erica started laughing so hard, she got hiccups and started to cough. Dumbledore swept down the centre gap between the tables and paused, with a look of concern on his face, watching Erica's hiccupping coughing fit.

"Are we putting bones in the porridge again?"

Tonks blushed and shook her head. "No, Headmaster. Just my owl crash landed again, and, er, sorry, I don't know your name …" She looked at Remy for help.

"Remy."

"Pleased to meet you, Remy. I'm Tonks. Erica is the one choking. Ah, yes, sorry, Headmaster. Remy accidentally made Erica laugh. She'll be fine in a minute." She smiled hopefully at Dumbledore, who merely raised an eyebrow and looked from Tonks, to Erica, to Remy, and back to Erica.

"Well if she does continue to choke, perhaps someone would be so good as to pat her on the back. I don't think blue really suits her. Not facially anyway."

The girl beside Erica patted her on the back until she stopped coughing. "Thanks", she wheezed.

Dumbledore nodded, satisfied, and then turned to Remy, handing him a piece of paper. "Your timetable, Mr. Logan. I'm sure someone will be only too happy to help you find your way around."

"Thanks, Professor."

Dumbledore smiled and continued on to his place at the breakfast table. Remy peered at his timetable, wondering how long it was going to take him to get used to being called 'Mr. Logan'. He hadn't answered to Logan since Nick had died. Well, not voluntarily anyway. He supposed he'd officially been called it up until Mad-Eye adopted him. It had been Mad-Eye's idea to keep Logan as his middle name. Remy had grudgingly agreed, and he had to admit, it made sense to use it as a last name at times like this. But it was still going to take some getting used to.

"Let me see."

"There's nothing to see. It's healing."

"What? No scar at all?"

"No. Not even a small one."

"Well that's boring."

"Yeah, I know. Cool, we got porridge."

Remy watched the two fair haired teens take their seats at the table behind Rob. The boy rolled his sleeve up to show the girl his arm, but apparently there really was no scar to see, as she quickly became far more interested in a pile of toast, while he poured himself a huge bowl of porridge.

"I don't know how you can eat that stuff." She wrinkled her nose in disgust.

He shrugged. "I like it."

"Well you're weird."

"You're weird for not liking it."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Are too."

Rob noticed Remy watching the pair. "Dillon and Arial Morgan. The terrible Slytherin twins. Best to stay out of their way, especially if they're together. They both have one hell of a right hook."

Remy grinned and nodded. The way they were bickering with each other may have given the casual observer the impression that they weren't all that fond of each other, but he had a feeling that if you messed with one of them, you'd have to deal with them both.

Potions was first up, with Professor Snape. Remy had been forewarned by Rob and Danny that Snape was the Head of Slytherin and a stickler for the rules, so he was somewhat nervous as he settled into his seat next to Danny.

Professor Snape was a thin man with a large, hooked nose. He had shoulder-length, black, greasy hair which framed his pale face a bit like a pair of curtains. His eyes were cold and black, and his thin lips seemed to be set in a permanent sneer. His robes were black and flowing. Remy couldn't help thinking they made him look like an overgrown bat. He reminded Remy a lot of Jared, yet he didn't make the hackles on his neck rise, and Remy had learned over the years to trust his hackles. Occasionally they were wrong, but as a rule, they were pretty reliable. Remy decided to give Snape the benefit of the doubt.

Snape was very quietly spoken, and Remy had to listen hard to make out what he was saying. Being forced to listen hard actually helped him to concentrate the whole way through the class, and he was pleased to find he could keep up. He even managed to successfully answer the one question Snape fired at him, much to the apparent surprise of the Professor, who promptly left him alone for the rest of the class.

Herbology was the next class, and Remy immediately decided he liked the bubbly Professor Sprout. She had a friendly face and nature and was obviously enthusiastic about her subject. Today's class was mainly practical and involved transplanting seedlings, a task Remy took to with a smile. This type of school work he could do all day long.

The last class before lunch was Transfiguration. This class was not one Remy was looking forward to. Despite Mad-Eye's best efforts, Remy had never really got the hang of the subject. Something about it just failed to make any sense to him at all. It didn't help that Rob had told him that Professor McGonagall was pretty strict, was the deputy Headmistress, and was also the Head of Gryffindor. Remy tried hard to keep up, but was struggling after the first ten minutes. Luckily, he didn't have to answer any questions, as McGonagall seemed to prefer people to volunteer, rather than occasionally picking people at random as Snape had seemed to do, which meant Gideon seemed to answer most of the questions. He may have given the impression of constantly worrying about things, but it seemed Gideon was way ahead of anyone else in terms of reading the text books. At the end of the class, Remy hurried to put his notebook into his backpack, but wasn't fast enough.

"Logan. A word please." Her faint Scottish accent was much more refined than Fitz's.

Remy's heart sank, but he managed to smile and nod, and stood to one side to wait for the rest of the class to leave the room.

"How are you settling in? Finding everything you need?"

"Yes thanks, Professor. It would be easier if the doors and stairs didn't keep moving. I keep getting lost."

She nodded. "You'll get used to that after a while. Are you managing to keep up with your classes so far?"

Remy frowned slightly. "Well, so far anyway."

McGonagall nodded again. "I expect you may struggle to begin with. It's only to be expected. Your classmates have a three week head start on you. However, if you apply yourself, you should soon catch up. If you do find you need some extra help, please ask the Professor in charge of the subject, or come and see me."

"Ok. Thanks, Professor."

She looked Remy up and down, and he found himself wishing his jeans weren't quite so battered.

"I'm reliably informed that the issue of a uniform is being dealt with."

"Um, hopefully, yes, Professor."

"Good, good. That top is a little too big for you, but it's better than nothing I suppose. I think I could probably find a tie for you to wear, but I would guess you don't have a shirt to wear it with."

Remy shook his head with a somewhat apologetic grin.

"Oh well, if you need anything, please come and see me. I assume someone has pointed out my office to you already?"

"Yes, Professor. Thanks." He grabbed his backpack and practically ran out of the room. Professor McGonagall watched him go with a worried expression on her face.

"That's not what I meant, Albus. It's just, we're already three weeks into the term, and he has no educational background of which I'm aware. I just think he may struggle to keep up in year three. He looks more like a first year as it is."

"We'll see, Minerva. Give the boy a chance. He may surprise you."

"There's something about him that you're not telling me, isn't there?"

Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Minerva, please. Just give the boy a chance. I think we should at least wait a couple of weeks before making assumptions about what Remy can and cannot keep up with. Even Severus grudgingly admitted that he seemed to be able to follow his potions class fairly well. If you are really worried, you could always suggest some extra reading for him."

McGonagall shook her head and sighed. "Extra reading? The boy has no books. He also has no uniform, and no background. It's as though he's just been dropped here from nowhere."

"And he's in your house, Minerva. You're in the perfect position to keep an eye on him. And the uniform issue is in hand. I hope."


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"You, Boy!"

The gruff voice bellowed out, halting Remy in his tracks. He looked around, but he was the only student in the corridor. He assumed everyone else had better things to do in the short break after lunch than to visit the library in search of books. A tall man with slicked down black hair, a neatly trimmed beard and a matching moustache, was glaring at him. His nose was long and thin, just like his face. His eyes were small, dark and glinted behind the narrow rimmed glasses he was wearing. The hackles on the back of Remy's neck stood on end. He forced himself to take a calming breath.

"Me, Sir?"

"Yes, you, boyo. You're not wearing your uniform. Detention."

"But, Sir, I haven't got a uniform."

"Do you think I'm stupid? You are a student here, are you not?"

"Well, yes Sir, but ..."

"No buts. You know the rules, or you should do. You're not wearing your uniform, that's a detention."

"Yes Sir, but I haven't got …"

"Are you arguing with me, boyo?" The man strode stiffly over and stood right in front of Remy, glaring down with his nostrils flaring. He had the kind of glare that could freeze a summer's day. Remy finally recognised the slight accent as Welsh.

Remy shook his head. "No Sir, but I don't have a uniform yet, so how can I wear something I don't have?"

The man practically shook with anger. "That's a second detention for arguing. Want to try for three?" The man's nostrils flared as he spoke, and Remy had to fight hard not to stare up his nose.

From the gleeful sneer on his face, Remy was pretty sure he'd soon find a reason for a third detention. Possibly for breathing too loudly. Or too frequently. He decided to take the path of least resistance.

"No, Sir. Sorry, Sir."

The man's expression softened slightly into a self congratulatory, superior sneer. "Much better. Two detentions it is then." He swished his black cloak around him in an overly dramatic fashion and strode off down the corridor, leaving Remy scratching his head and wondering what the hell had just happened.

Hogwarts Library was extremely well stocked. Remy gazed around in awe. There were even more books here than in the book shop in Diagonal Alley. A tall, thin women descended on him as he gazed around. Remy assumed she was the librarian, Madam Pince. Her skin reminded Remy of parchment, and her sunken cheeks made her face look shrivelled. Her current expression was one of extreme irritation, and that was before he spoke.

"Can I help you?"

"Um. I was just looking for some books."

"What type of books?"

"Books for class. I haven't got any, yet. I arrived in a bit of a rush, and I just thought, maybe I could kinda borrow some from the library 'til I get some."

She frowned and looked him up and down. For the second time that day, Remy found himself wishing his jeans had fewer rips.

"Hmmm. Well have you got a list?"

Remy nodded and wordlessly handed her the list Dumbledore had given him. She read it, peered down her hooked nose at him, and tutted a few times.

"That's practically the entire third year reading list."

Remy sighed. "I know. I have some of them at home, but I can't go get them, and there's no-one there to send them to me at the moment."

"Hmph. Well, I suppose if it's just a short term loan …"

"It is," agreed Remy, quickly. "Just short term 'til I get mine from home or buy the ones I don't have. Somehow." He smiled as politely as he could and waited for her decision.

She thought for a few moments, and then decided to take pity on him. "Very well. Let's see if we can find some of these for you. But, I expect you to take extremely good care of them."

She frowned severely at him, and he nodded reassuringly. "I will. I promise."

They searched the shelves for several minutes, finally retrieving the most important books that Remy would need. Madam Pince helped him check them out, making him promise once again to take good care of them.

Monday afternoon was double Charms. Remy had managed to find the right text book in the library, and felt a little more prepared than he had for the morning classes. Remy thought Professor Flitwick was a much better teacher than first appearances may have led the casual observer to believe. He was extremely short, probably part-goblin, and had to stand on a box to see over his desk. He had a shock of brown hair and seemed to prefer to wear a black suit to the robes of his colleagues. As someone who wasn't a huge fan of robes, that single fact immediately endeared him to Remy.

Short in stature he may have been, but he had no problems at all in involving the whole class in his lecture. He walked around the room as they all practised today's charm, nodding his approval from time to time, or demonstrating the charm once again. He seemed to be a very patient man. He nodded and smiled encouragingly when he reached Remy, and then adjusted Rob's hand slightly.

"Much better. Mr. Munroe. Good, good. Ok, onto the next charm."

"Ah, Remy. Can you spare me a few minutes? How did your first day go?" Dumbledore smiled at Remy, who glanced at his watch and looked around distractedly.

"Um, fine thanks, Professor, but, um, I don't want to be late to detention."

Dumbledore looked surprised. "Detention? On your first day? How ever did you manage that?"

Remy shrugged. "For not wearing a uniform."

Dumbledore frowned. "But you don't have a uniform."

"I know."

"Did you explain that?"

"I tried, but that was just arguing, apparently."

"Hmm. And who gave you this detention?"

"Um. Tall guy. Black hair, beard, moustache, glasses."

Dumbledore looked thoughtful. "Ah, that sounds like Professor Sheridan. Well, you'd better run along, I wouldn't want to make you late. I'll have a word with Professor Sheridan and explain about the uniform."

Remy breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Professor."

"Professor Sheridan. May I have a word?"

"Certainly, Headmaster. How may I help?"

"Apparently you gave young Mr. Logan a detention for failing to wear his uniform."

Professor Sheridan frowned in thought. "Logan. Logan. Not sure I know a Logan, but I did give a boy a detention for failing to wear his uniform, yes."

"Yes, indeed. That would have been Mr. Logan. He really doesn't have a uniform as yet. I did send a memo out about it. He arrived at short notice this weekend, and the issue of a uniform is still in hand."

"Ah, yes. I see. He should have explained that."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Did he not mention it?"

"No. No, I don't believe he did, Headmaster."

"Hmm. Well, anyway, I thought it best to bring the matter to your attention."

"Thank you, Headmaster. I'll take care of it."

Remy was heading back to the Gryffindor common room when Danny caught up with him.

"Hey, Remy. How'd the first day go?"

"Not too bad I guess. Be better if I had my own books."

"Yeah, you should get your parents to send them onto you."

Remy was spared the effort of thinking of a fitting reply by a little man dressed in a bright red and green suit, a bell shaped hat and an orange bow tie, who floated overhead and pelted the pair with chalk, laughing loudly. Remy grabbed a piece of chalk and threw it back, but it passed straight through the little man, who laughed louder.

"Ha ha, silly newcomer. Can't catch me."

Remy scratched his head in puzzlement as the man floated off down the corridor. "He can't be a ghost. He looks solid."

"That was Peeves," explained Danny. "He's a poltergeist and a right pain in the neck. Always doing stuff like that. Wastebaskets, chalk, apples, you name it, he throws it. Taunts us too, and never listens to the prefects, or the Professors. The only people that can make him behave are Dumbledore and the Bloody Baron."

"The Bloody Baron?"

"Slytherin's resident ghost. You can't miss him, he's the one covered in blood and carrying heavy chains. No one knows why Peeves does what the Baron says though. Wish we did, then maybe we could all control the annoying little twerp."

"Maybe someone should ask him," mused Remy.

Danny laughed. "Good luck with that. Hey, look, Matt's back."

Remy followed Danny's gaze down the corridor. "Matt?"

"Yeah. He's been away for a few days. Family stuff. Looks like he's back. He's in our dorm room. You'll like Matt. He's quiet, but he can be fun. Kind of like you really." Danny grinned lopsidedly at Remy and set off at a run towards Matt.

Remy was momentarily stunned, but quickly followed after Danny, shaking his head a little. Matt turned out to be a slim boy, slightly taller than Remy, with short dark hair and glasses. Remy hung back a little, letting Danny make the introductions and pepper Matt with queries about his weekend. Matt answered in a very quiet, non-committal fashion, and Remy wondered if this was how he himself sounded when people asked him questions about home.

Matt seemed somehow familiar to Remy, and he racked his brains, trying to work out where he might have seen him before, but he just couldn't think of anything. Matt merely glanced at Remy and frowned a little, but made no comment, leaving Remy with a gnawing curiosity and a worrying feeling in the back of his head.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Tuesday was not going to be Remy's favourite day of the week. It started with Transfiguration, which he once again struggled to keep up with. He just couldn't really get the whole idea of transfiguration into his brain, and as such, he found the subject boring. He tried to force himself to focus, but by the end of the class, he was developing an impressive headache.

History was next, with Professor Binns. Remy blinked in disbelief. Professor Binns looked quite a lot like a tortoise. An old tortoise. Well, actually, an old, dead, grey tortoise. He was hovering a few inches over his chair, and if Remy squinted, he could see right through him.

Danny nudged him. "Binns has been here for decades, longer probably. He died in his sleep in the staff room, but just keeps on teaching. No one's too sure he's even noticed he's dead."

Professor Binns started reading his notes to the class in such a droning, monosyllabic tone, that Remy was soon convinced that he'd found the ultimate cure for insomnia. He looked around the room, and noticed that the majority of students looked just as bored as he felt. In fact, some of them were already asleep. Remy made a valiant attempt to listen to the lecture, but soon found himself just tuning out the man's droning, reedy voice and simply reading the book. Well, at least this was one class he could keep up with just by reading the book, as Binns did not stray from the text at all as far as Remy could tell. Presumably he'd been teaching the class for so long, he knew the book word for word and saw no reason for variation. After all, history was … well … history. It wasn't as though he could rewrite it for comedic effect.

After lunch was the class Remy had been dreading. Defence against the Dark Arts. It wasn't that he thought he'd struggle, quite the opposite in fact. Mad-Eye had taught him well, possibly too well, so he knew he was definitely up to speed on this particular subject. His problem was the Professor. Professor Olwydd Sheridan.

Remy made sure he was early getting to class and sat himself down next to Danny, a couple of rows from the front, right in front of Rob and Matt. Professor Sheridan swept dramatically into the room and quickly made his way to the front of the class, slamming his books down on the desk and looking around with a fierce glare.

"Your homework last week was atrocious. This week, there had better be signs of improvement." He thrust a sheaf of papers at the boy nearest him. "Hand these out. I want them handed back in by lunchtime on Friday. No exceptions. No excuses."

The papers made their way round the room quickly. Remy grabbed his copy and handed the rest on to Danny. He glanced at it quickly and stifled a groan, before focusing his full attention on the Professor.

The class progressed much like every other class so far. Professor Sheridan lectured them on a topic, then asked questions. Various people volunteered answers. However, Sheridan seemed to ignore anyone who thought they knew the answer in favour of picking other people randomly, and then berating them for not knowing the answer, or for getting it wrong. Remy survived until the third question.

"So what is the best course of action if faced with Irish Pixies?" Several hands shot up, including Matt and Rob's. Gideon frowned, deep in thought. Danny stared studiously at a crack in the floor. "Anyone?" A couple of the hands waved around, trying to attract his attention. "No-one? Logan?"

"Um, freeze them and put them in a cage."

"Wrong!"

Remy blinked. It wasn't the wrong answer. It was the right answer. He knew it was. He'd actually done it. Al hated all pixies, and he'd made sure Remy knew how to handle all the different varieties quickly and with the minimum of fuss.

"In fact, that's such a stupid answer, I barely know where to start." All the hands that had been waving in the air, quickly disappeared. "Would anyone like to tell Logan how to deal with Irish Pixies? No-one at all?"

Everyone looked completely blank. In truth, most had thought Remy had given the right answer, although they weren't about to say that. Professor Sheridan glared around the room.

"Well, at least none of you are giving me an answer as stupid as Logan. Very well, add that to this week's assignment. The most effective way to deal with Irish Pixies. You can thank Logan for that one. Right, turn to page 36 in your textbooks and read."

Remy ignored the baleful glares aimed his way and flicked to page 36, staring blankly at it. His answer had been right. He knew it had. Well, he was going to give the same answer in his assignment, and back it up with references, although it would probably be best to give references from text books rather than 'my dad said so'.

They were sat outside, enjoying the afternoon sun in the Quad before dinner. Danny and Matt were sitting on a wall chatting quietly. Tonks and Erica were comparing Herbology notes. A couple of younger boys were trading Chocolate Frog cards with a fifth year Gryffindor. Remy was staring off into the distance at a clump of trees, wondering if the squirrel at the base of one of the trees was sick, as it was wandering around as though it was drunk. All was peaceful.

"It's all his fault." The boy with short, jet black hair practically spat the words in Remy's direction. "Extra homework. Just what we need."

"Hey, it wasn't Remy's fault. Sheridan is an idiot. Remy gave him the right answer." Danny stood up and approached the boy. Two more boys stepped forwards and flanked the first boy. Matt and Remy exchanged looks and stood up to flank Danny. "I didn't notice you giving a different answer, Laurence."

"That's not the point," sneered Laurence. "I wasn't stupid enough to give an answer."

"You mean you weren't smart enough to think of an answer. Well that sounds about right."

"That's not what I said."

"That's what it sounded like."

"Problem, Gentlemen?"

Everyone whirled around and stared dumbfounded at Professor Snape, who'd apparently appeared from nowhere. Remy kicked himself mentally for not noticing the man approach, and made a note that he was a stealthy mover.

"No problem, Professor," smiled Danny. "We were just discussing a homework assignment."

"Really," drawled Professor Snape. "Strange. It appeared to be something … more."

"No, Professor. Really, just homework." Laurence attempted to match Danny's smile, but somehow, it just looked false. Remy even felt his skin crawl a little. Professor Snape appeared to be similarly unimpressed.

"Hmmm ... very well Fishman. May I suggest you all disperse and discuss it … elsewhere." He turned and stalked away. Laurence and his two friends followed him, attempting to look superior.

Danny waited until they were safely out of range and then flicked his head, stuck his nose in the air, and attempted to copy Laurence's walk. Everyone fell about laughing.

The older Gryffindor boy walked over, laughing. "Gods, that's way too accurate. You need a new hobby."

Danny stopped and grinned. "Thanks, Mac." He hopped back up onto the wall. "It's hard to see where you're going with your nose that high in the air."

Mac grinned. "Seriously though guys, best not to get into any fights in the courtyard, even if it is with a Slytherin, especially with Snape around, since he's head of their house. He has a habit of deducting house points for very little reason. The only way you could have picked worse would have been Sheridan. He'd probably have tried to get you suspended for starting a World War."

Remy muttered under his breath.

Mac frowned a little. "Not a fan of Sheridan I take it."

Remy shook his head. "Nope. And he ain't a fan of mine either."

"Yeah, he was totally out of order though. You gave the right answer." Matt kicked at a random stone, sending it skittering across the courtyard.

Remy shrugged, a little surprised that Matt agreed, but glad for the support. "Meh. I don't think it would have mattered what answer I gave, the dude just doesn't like me."

Mac nodded sympathetically. "He doesn't like me much, or Josh for that matter. And Josh is Slytherin, so it can't just be a house thing with him."

Tonks sighed. "Same here. I've stopped even attempting to answer anything. At least he seems to leave me alone if I don't try to answer questions. It's like he looks straight through me." She looked at her watch. "Hey guys, I hate to break up the fun, but we need to make a move or we'll be late for dinner."

Detention after dinner was boring to the point of extreme tedium. Professor Sheridan had a few students gathered in the Dark Arts classroom, and they were all supposed to be copying chunks from various textbooks he'd provided. He seemed to be in a bad mood, although Remy was beginning to think that a bad mood was normal for him. Remy avoided eye contact with everyone and concentrated on just copying the book he was given. Sheridan prowled around the room, occasionally pausing and peering over someone's shoulder, presumably to make sure they were doing what they were supposed to be doing.

Sheridan paused behind Remy a couple of times. He was so close that Remy could feel the man's cold breath on his neck. Remy never even flinched, but forced himself to continue working as though Sheridan wasn't even there. Sheridan grunted and moved on each time.

At the end of detention, Remy grabbed his stuff and attempted a hasty exit, but Sheridan had positioned himself to block Remy's path.

"A word, Logan."

Remy took a deep breath and waited for everyone else to flee the room.

"It has been brought to my attention that you are currently not in possession of a uniform. Therefore, the detention I gave you for that infraction of the rules was apparently unwarranted. However, you should have mentioned to me at the time that you did not have a uniform. Detention for failing to tell me all the pertinent facts and making me look a fool to the Headmaster."

Remy bristled with indignation. "But I did tell you I didn't have a uniform. That's why you gave me a second detention, this one I've just done. You said I was arguing."

"You're still arguing, boyo. I guess you haven't learned your lesson. We'll add on a further detention for arguing and a 5 point house deduction. Get out of my sight. You really are useless. I doubt anyone is going to be able to teach you anything of any worth during your time here."

Remy somehow resisted the urge to punch the man on his supercilious thin nose, grabbed his backpack and left, leaving Sheridan with a self satisfied, smug smile on his face.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Wednesday looked a much better day to Remy. It started with Mythical Creatures with Professor Kettleburn in the Forbidden Forest. This was a mixed class of 3rd and 4th year Gryfindor and Slytherin who had elected to take the subject. This meant that Charlie Weasley was in his class, and Remy found the red haired 4th year to be friendly and very likeable. He also had Danny for company, though not Rob. Matt had also apparently decided against this class. Remy wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing. He was curious about Matt and wanted to get to know him better, and possibly work out why he had the sneaking feeling they'd met before. Matt, however, seemed to be as adept at Remy at avoiding people and unwanted questions. Rob had shrugged when Remy has asked him about Matt and simply described him as 'strange and a bit of a bookworm'. Remy couldn't help thinking that was slightly hypocritical coming from Rob, since he'd spent most of the previous evening comparing notes with Matt for their homework assignment.

More importantly, this class was held in the Forest. Remy was fascinated with the forest, and found it more than a little frustrating that it was considered out of bounds to students, unless they had to be there for class or detention. He really wanted to explore the whole area. He was especially intrigued with the squirrels in this area, as they often seemed to be dazed.

Professor Kettleburn was a small man with a weathered face and bright green eyes, which danced around the faces of his students, checking to make sure they were paying attention. His rusty brown hair was a little wild and windswept, and Remy had the feeling that this particular Professor preferred to take classes outside, rather then in a classroom, which was just fine by Remy.

Professor Kettleburn walked with a staff and a limp, which, despite the fact his walk was a lot more ungainly, reminded Remy a lot of Al. His arms seemed to be different sizes, and one of them moved in a very strange way. Remy decided that Danny really hadn't been jerking his chain when he'd said Kettleburn only had one and a half of his original limbs remaining.

Today's subject was the Diricawl, a large flightless bird, supposedly similar to the Dodo, except the Diricawl had learned than humans were not always to be trusted and had developed the habit of snapping at extended hands with a fearsome large beak.

Kettleburn kept the subject of today's lecture at staff's length while he told them the 3 foot high bird was a relatively harmless vegetarian, as long as you left it alone, but that it's beak could crush a man's hand, or remove a finger. Remy couldn't help wondering if this was how Kettleburn had lost one of his limbs, or part of one anyway.

Laurence decided it would be more fun to throw small pebbles at the Diricawl than to pay attention to the lecture. Unfortunately for Laurence, he managed a direct hit on the side of the bird's head. Enraged, the bird fluffed it's feathers, and screamed at him, jabbing towards him with it's beak. Laurence back tracked so quickly, he fell over his own feet and ended up in a heap on the floor, yelling for someone to keep the murderous creature at bay. The rest of the class just fell about laughing. Kettleburn nudged the bird firmly with his staff and guided it back to the undergrowth, away from Laurence.

"And that, Fishman, is why you should not throw stones at a Diricawl. I hope that's your lesson learned. 5 point house deduction, just to make sure."

Kettleburn continued with the class and Remy found himself warming to the man. He was obviously fascinated by creatures of all kinds and quite protective of them, even if previous escapades had cost him the odd limb. He was also a good teacher, managing to impart knowledge to the class quite effortlessly. Well to those that were paying attention anyway. Laurence was too busy muttering to the boy next to him that he was going to "drop this stupid subject and take something useful, like Arithmancy." Remy had to resist the urge to do a happy jig at that news.

The next class for Remy was supposed to be a free period, but Dumbledore had pencilled him in for flying classes, so after the break, he headed to the Training Grounds by the North Tower to wait for Madam Hooch. He hopped up onto a wall and sat there, waiting, kicking his feet aimlessly back and forth.

"You must be Logan."

Remy looked up and nodded. "That's me, Professor."

She looked him over quickly, her piercing, yellow eyes taking in his diminutive stature, oversized top, and battered blue jeans. He looked anything but a third year Hogwarts student. She sighed and ran her hand through her short, light brown, spiky hair. She had better things to do than give remedial flying lessons. "It's Madam Hooch, not Professor. Oh well. I suppose we should get started. Have you got a broom?"

Remy jumped off the wall and shook his head. "No, sorry, Madam Hooch. Well, I do have my own broom, but not here." He tried a lopsided smile.

"Luckily I brought one of the school brooms." She laid it on the floor. "I assume you can fly a little then, since you own a broom."

Remy nodded. "Sort of."

"Who taught you?"

Remy picked his words carefully. "Um … my dad. Well, kinda."

"Kind of?"

Remy grinned. "Well he gave me a broom and told me to work it out. I soon worked out that hitting trees hurt, so I learned to avoid them."

She grinned. Despite her initial misgivings, she found herself warming to the boy. He had an infectious grin and a twinkle in his eyes that was both friendly and mischievous at the same time.

"Ok. Well, take your broom, mount, and fly once around the area, clockwise. Not too high or fast please. I want accuracy, not a new speed record."

Remy held his hand out. "Up." The broom shot up into his hand. He mounted quickly and kicked it into life, circling the training grounds at a steady speed, about ten feet off the ground, before landing back beside Madam Hooch and dismounting.

She nodded approvingly. "Good. Good. Circle again please, anti-clockwise this time, twelve feet up. Go."

Remy circled the area in the opposite direction, at the specified height, and the same steady speed. He landed back beside her.

She nodded. "Not bad at all Logan. Just a couple more manoeuvres and I can sign you off as a flyer. Then you can get your own broom sent from home."

"Well, well, well. What do we have here. Ah, it's the new squib." Dillon Morgan smiled coldly at Remy. "You got away easy yesterday. No Professors around today. I checked."

Remy merely raised an eyebrow. Morgan frowned at Remy's lack of response, apparently unsure how to proceed. Arial helped her brother out.

"I think he's scared of you, Dillon."

"He should be. Laurence wants you to know who's in charge around here."

Remy frowned. "That would be Dumbledore."

Morgan laughed. "No, you idiot. He just runs the school. Laurence is the one you're going to have to be nice to. Any parcels from home, he gets a share. If he needs help with an assignment, you help, no questions asked. What he says, goes."

Remy shrugged. "No one at home to send me parcels. Laurence thinks I'm dumb, so how am I going to help him with schoolwork. And why did he send you to tell me this? Is he too chicken to do it himself? Or are you so brainwashed by the idiot that you think he'll return the favour some day? 'Cos I've met people like Fish Face before. He'll be nice to you for as long as you're useful to him. Once you stop being useful, he'll barely remember your name."

Morgan paused, as though actually thinking about what Remy was saying.

"Shut up, squib," snarled Arial. "Hex him, Morgan. Go on, show him we mean business."

With a move so quick it became a blur Morgan drew his wand, aiming for Remy's chest. Remy span in towards him, effectively avoiding the spell and bringing himself inches from his opponent. He hooked a foot around the larger boy's ankle and, using his free hand, pushed Morgan back. Morgan stumbled but did not fall.

Morgan tossed his head back and chortled. "Typical Muggle. Can't use a wand in a fight, so he uses his fists."

"Typical Wizard. Has to rely on magic 'cos he has no idea how to actually fight." Remy's eyes glittered and he clenched his fists so tightly, his knuckles went white. He spoke slowly, with a calm yet impetuous tone.

Morgan drew himself up to his full height, grinned and threw his wand to his sister.

"Let's test that theory, shall we?"

Remy's fist swung through the air and hit Morgan squarely in the left eye. Morgan cried out in pain and stepped back, starring one-eyed and incredulous.

"No-one, I repeat, no-one hits me like that," he rasped, his voice steady and threatening.

Remy grinned, cheekily. "I just did."

Morgan growled, shivered with rage, then literally threw himself at the smaller boy. Remy was ready for him, and side stepped neatly, letting a trailing leg catch Morgan in the shin and making the Slytherin tumble headlong to the floor. Arial watched with a bemused expression.

"Come on, Dillon. He's smaller than you. Hit him."

"I'm trying to hit him," growled Morgan, launching himself at Remy once again. Remy ducked and twisted out of reach at the last minute. He bobbed up behind Morgan, planting a foot firmly in his back and pushing Morgan headlong into the nearest wall. There was a thud and a groan, and then a strange scraping noise as Morgan slid down the wall and ended up in a disorganised pile of limbs on the floor.

Remy stepped closer and leant over to check Morgan was alright. Reassured that the boy was just winded and stunned, he shot a bright grin at Arial.

"Tell Laurence, if he wants to say something to me, he knows where to find me. And if Morgan wants to fight, that's fine by me. As long as it is Morgan that wants the fight. If it's Laurence that wants the fight, then Laurence had better turn up next time. I don't fight people by proxy."

Arial blinked at him, confused by what had just happened. Remy headed off down the corridor, before she gathered her wits and remembered that she had a wand in her hands.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Thursday was a fairly good day for Remy. Astronomy in the morning, and then Potions after lunch. Remy had always liked Astronomy, and had a number of books on the subject, thanks mainly to Remus who seemed to buy him a new astronomy book every Christmas and birthday. He also had his own telescope. Al had even helped him make some adjustments to one of the old barns at home. The bottom area, he'd set up as his own skate park, with ramps and sliders and a half pipe. The upper section was his own study area, where he stored most of his astronomy and magical creatures books. He had a couple of windows, which he used to look for birds and creatures, and a skylight, where his telescope was set up so that he could gaze at the night sky. Thinking about it, Al had actually spoiled him rotten the last year or so. School was a bit of a culture shock for him, having to be in a set place at a set time and study a specific subject. He'd grown used to studying what he wanted to, when he wanted to, as long as he didn't annoy Al with too many questions while he was working.

The Astronomy Professor, Professor Capella, was a softly spoken young woman with a slight trace of an American accent, flowing black hair, deep purple eyes and a ready smile. Her robes were a dark purple color and seemed to flow around her like liquid. She practically floated into the room to take her place at the front. She seemed pleasant, and Remy was surprised when his hackles twitched slightly. However, as Professor Capella started the lecture, his hackles soon settled down, and he found himself actually enjoying the class.

He was particularly fascinated with her moving model of the solar system at one side of the class room. There was an intricate metal spiral arrangement, with a central light wood core, topped with what appeared to be a bronzed model of the sun. The planets rotated around it on arms of light wood and bronze, each one apparently scaled to be the correct distance from the sun, and each rotating on the right orbitary path. Some of the planets had other spheres orbiting them in turn, representing various moons. It wasn't the most complex solar model Remy had ever seen, but the combination of metal and light wood did make it unusually eye catching.

He was somewhat intrigued to notice she also had a picture of the Manhattan Bridge on the wall. He wasn't quite sure what relevance that had to Astronomy, but at least it brightened the place up. At the end of the class, she delayed Remy for a 'quick chat'. Remy was getting used to these 'chats' as his Professors all seemed to want to give him the once over, up close.

"So, how are you settling in, Mr. Logan?"

"Fine thanks, Professor."

"Did you understand today's class?"

Remy nodded. "Yes, Professor. I'd read that part of the book already, so I managed to follow it, thanks."

"That's good. Ok, so I'll add you to the Wednesday night Astronomy Observatory sessions. Come along next week at midnight, and I'll show you the equipment. After that, you'll be assigned various sessions for attendance, and you can request other sessions if they are helpful with assignments."

"Thanks, Professor."

-o-o-o-

Remy was heading down the corridors back towards the Gryffindor tower, day dreaming about skateboarding, when Laurence stepped out from behind a statue and blocked his way. Morgan and a stocky Slytherin stepped out of the shadows to join him. Arial drifted into view behind them.

"Well, well, well," sneered Laurence. "What do we have here? Oh yes, the one that's so dumb he can't answer a simple question."

Remy rolled his eyes. "What do you want, Fishman?"

"Just introducing myself, properly. Not sure you knew who you were messing with the other day." Laurence puffed himself up self importantly. "My father is an important man at the Ministry. You'd do well to keep on my good side."

Remy thought hard about all the people he'd met or heard Al talk about at the Ministry, but he couldn't recall anyone called Fishman.

"I think he's in awe, Laurence." The tall, fair haired Slytherin boy actually had a pleasant looking face, when he wasn't snarling at people for Laurence's benefit. At the moment, however, that pleasant face was distorted by a rather nasty looking black eye.

Laurence nodded. "So he should be, Morgan. After all, it's not as if he has any proper family of his own. Just take a look at the state of him. No uniform. Ripped jeans. Tatty trainers. A total mess. Even worse than that squib Matt, and I never thought that was possible." He looked at Arial to make sure she was paying attention to him, and preened visibly when she grinned.

Morgan chuckled, while Remy bristled with quiet indignation. It wasn't as if he could answer back to those remarks. He didn't have a uniform, and his jeans were rather battered. But he did have a family ... just not one he could talk about. Several more curious Slytherins started to gather around the small group, followed by a few Ravenclaws and a couple of boys from Hufflepuff. Remy peered around somewhat apprehensively at the ever increasing crowd. He hated being the centre of attention. Laurence made the most of Remy's distraction and pushed him. Remy stumbled backwards slightly, but quickly regained his balance. Unfortunately, he dropped the book he was holding as he did so. It fell to the floor with a thud.

"What's this? A book? Wow. I didn't know you could read." Laurence smiled at the crowd as some of them snickered at his comment.

Remy remained silent and bent to pick up the book. Morgan was faster. He stepped on the book and somehow managed to kick it up into the air, juggling it off his wrist, and flicking it to Laurence. If it had been anyone else pulling off a trick like that, Remy would have been impressed.

"A Field Book of the Stars?" read Laurence. "Ha ha. Don't tell me you're actually reading this?"

Remy reached out to take the book, but Laurence was too quick, throwing the book into the air. Morgan caught it deftly. Remy sighed inwardly. This was not going to be easy.

"Don't you do anything but read?" continued Laurence, loudly. "You're as bad as Matt. No wonder no one likes you." Laurence preened as he played to the tightly packed crowd. "Scruffy, abandoned by his family, and all he can do is read. Such a shame." Laurence was starting to enjoy himself. Remy was starting to lose patience.

"Make your mind up," drawled Remy with an air of boredom. "First you're amazed I can read, now you're saying all I do is read. Can't have it both ways. And why exactly do I care that your father is impotent?"

Laurence blinked, confused. "Impotent. What are you talking about, idiot?"

Remy shrugged. "You said your father was an impotent man."

There were snickers from the crowd. Morgan, Laurence and Arial exchanged blank expressions. It was Arial who worked it out first.

"No, not impotent. Important!"

"Ohhh." Remy managed to look surprised. "I'm always getting those mixed up. Never mind, just give me the book back and I'll get out of your way."

Laurence sneered. "You want the book? He wants the book, Morgan."

Morgan grinned and held the book up out of Remy's reach. "Bit of bad luck he's having then."

Remy had had enough. He quickly checked around to make sure there were no Professors present. Before Laurence could work out what was happening, Remy had his wand in his hand. "Wingardium Leviosa."

The book flew out of Morgan's hands and smacked Laurence on the head. Remy caught the book with one hand, quickly stowing it in his rucksack, before smiling sweetly at Laurence and punching him straight in the nose.

Laurence howled in pain, Morgan stared blankly at Remy, as though he was trying to work out what had happened, and the crowd burst into a cross between a fit of giggles and rapid applause.

"He beat you to the draw, Fishman. Thought you said you were the fastest ever." Arial looked disappointed.

"But, Arial, the sun was in my eyes. Do you want me to block out the sun. I mean, I'll do that if you want me to." Laurence's tone was both whining and pleading at the same time.

"There is no sun indoors, idiot. Come on, Dillon. Let's get out of here."

Remy grinned and wove his way through the crowd, making a hasty retreat to the safety of the Gryffindor Tower, leaving Laurence to trail dejectedly after Morgan and Arial, rubbing his nose.

-o-o-o-

The rest of the week passed without major incident. Remy busied himself with catching up to his studies and working out the layout of the school. He got a further detention from Sheridan, for running in a corridor, making the week complete, but other than that he managed to keep a low profile and out of trouble, and out of Laurence's way too. Even a couple of minor scuffles with Morgan had gone unnoticed by any of the Professors or students. By Friday, even Professor McGonagall had stopped staring at him with the look of despair she'd used earlier in the week.

Fridays best class by far was Muggle studies. Again, this was a mixed class of 3rd and 4th years, but even better than Magical Creatures, this one was Gryfindor and Hufflepuff. That meant he had both Charlie and Tonks in his class. Even so, there were fewer students in this class than any of his others. This puzzled Remy. It wasn't as if the Professor was off putting. In fact, Remy quite liked Professor Quirrell, who despite his stammer, was quite an engaging professor. He may not have had the self confidence of Professor Snape, but that didn't mean he didn't know his subject. Remy found him to be very knowledgeable and not at all patronising about Muggles. In Remy's experience, this was a rarity in anyone with magical leanings. Usually they discussed Muggles as though they were poorly educated, second class citizens, or they were fascinated by their 'peculiarities'. Remy decided he'd definitely chosen the right classes to study. This was way better than anything involving numbers.

Remy even managed to hand in all his assignments on time. Well, almost all. He got distracted by a rather heated, yet highly entertaining confrontation between Peeves and the Bloody Baron, and managed to hand in his Dark Arts homework five minutes late, earning himself the sixth detention of the week.

Breakfast on Saturday was even quieter than usual. It seemed most people slept in on weekends. Remy was wide awake at his normal time, and spent an hour finishing his potions assignment for Monday morning, before heading to breakfast as usual. Josh and Mac were already there, chattering away to each other, despite being seated at different tables, and earning them disapproving glares from members of both Gryffindor and Slytherin. Neither fifth former seemed to pay these stares any attention though. Remy decided he much preferred their attitude to the seemingly usual one of sticking purely with people from your own house.

Tonks flopped down at her place on the Hufflepuff table with a huge yawn, just as the morning post arrived. Erica yelled "Incoming!", and ducked under the table. Tonks laughed and threw a piece of toast at her. Remy was grinning at their antics when he heard a thud on the table behind him. He looked round and frowned. An owl had landed right beside him, complete with a letter attached to a package.

"Hey, Tonks. What color is your owl?"

"Sort of fawn. Why?"

"It's just this one seems lost. Thought he might be yours."

Tonks grinned. "Oh, Herbert doesn't get lost. He just forgets to let go and crash lands."

Erica peeked over the table. "Owls don't often get lost. That's why they get used to deliver the post."

Remy looked again at the owl. Patchy grey and black, with bright amber eyes. It looked at him and blinked slowly. Remy looked at the post. The letter was addressed to … Remy Logan.

"That's weird."

"Problem, Mr. Logan?"

Remy looked around. "Um … no, Professor Dumbledore. It's just … well … um … I don't have an owl … and I don't get post … and … um …"

Dumbledore glanced at the letter. "And yet, that letter does appear to be addressed to you. As does the parcel. Perhaps you should open them."

Remy shrugged, but reached for the letter. The owl watched him closely, but made no move to stop him.

Rob slid into his seat opposite Remy as he opened the letter. "Cool. You got post." Rob reached for the parcel, but quickly withdrew his hand as the owl made to peck him. "Woah. Nice owl. Pretty owl. Don't eat my fingers. Ok, ok, I'll leave the post alone."

Remy read the letter quickly. "Oh. It's from my … Uncle."

"I didn't know you had an Uncle." Rob was trying to distract the owl with a sausage so he could take a closer look at the parcel, but the owl was singularly unimpressed.

Remy muttered under his breath. "Neither did I." He read the letter again. "Apparently the owl is mine. I never had an owl before. What do owls eat?"

"Well this one doesn't eat sausages. Ow. And he bites."

"Oh. Yeah. PS The owl bites." Trust Fitz to send him an owl that guarded things. Still, at least now he had an owl. And an 'Uncle Fitz'.

Rob sucked his finger and grinned ruefully. "You could have told me that before."

"Sorry." Remy was busy reading the letter again. "Well, my … Uncle has attempted to find me a uniform, but he's not sure of sizes, so he's just sent a jumper and I'm supposed to tell him if it fits." Remy tilted his head to one side as he considered this. "Could be interesting."

"Why is that, Logan?"

Remy looked around. Dumbledore was still stood behind him, and had now been joined by Professor McGonagall. He noted that even on a weekend, she still had her hair in a tight bun and wore her emerald robes. It seemed his new owl had quickly become the centre of attention.

Remy shrugged and looked at the parcel. "Um … it's just … well my Uncle is a big guy. He doesn't usually have much concept of anything smaller than extra large. He bought me a tee-shirt last year. I could take it camping and use it as a tent."

"Well, you'd better see if the jumper fits. You never know, it may be the perfect size." Professor McGonagall smiled encouragingly. "Good morning, Altaira. Sleep well?"

Professor Capella paused to greet McGonagall. "Yes, thank you, a much better night." She turned her warm smile at Dumbledore. "I'm afraid I'm a bit of an insomniac. It can be useful for an astronomer, but it has it's drawbacks." She drifted down towards the Professor's table.

Remy hid his grin as half the males in the room watched her, with their mouths slightly open. He tentatively reached out and took the parcel gently from the owl. The owl made no attempt to stop or bite him, and instead snatched the sausage from Rob's fork.

"Hey! Damn it, Remy, your owl just ate my sausage."

Tonks was giggling madly. "You said he didn't eat sausages, Rob."

"Yeah. Well. He didn't. And now he does. What are you going to call this thing, Remy? Just so I know what to yell at it."

"Call it Dodger, Remy."

Rob frowned. "Why Dodger?"

Tonks giggled. "Well, he just picked your pocket, Rob." Erica joined Tonks in a giggle filled and thankfully brief rendition of a song from Oliver.

Rob rolled his eyes. "Oh, ha ha. Very bloody funny."

"Munroe! Language please!"

"Sorry, Professor McGonagall."

Remy was oblivious to this exchange. He was busy unwrapping the jumper. Just as he'd feared, it was huge. He held it up as best he could and sighed.

"Oh my. Yes. That is a little on the large side." Professor McGonagall looked at Remy, and then at the jumper. "Actually, it's a lot on the large side."

Remy nodded. "Told you."

Dumbledore peered at the jumper. "I believe you should send the owl back to your … Uncle, with a note explaining that you're more an extra small than an extra large. Perhaps he could try again."

Remy looked unconvinced.

"Oh, and could you come to my office after breakfast please, Remy." Remy frowned a little at the Headmaster, who merely smiled benignly. "I also received a delivery this morning. I believe it was meant for you. The owl that brought it was a little confused. Oh, and perhaps you could persuade your owl not to eat all of Rob's sausages."

Remy glanced at the owl. "Cut that out."

The owl took a step backwards and settled in the middle of the table, preening himself. Remy looked up and down the table. Most of the students were grinning at the owl. At the far end of the table, Remy caught the eye of one of Gryffindors prefects.

"Hey, Russell. I don't suppose this would fit you would it?"

Russell looked a little surprised, but he stood up and headed down the table to Remy. He took the offered jumper and held it up, looking at it.

"Well, it's a bit big, even for me, but if I roll the sleeves up a little it might. Why?"

"Well it doesn't fit me, and no matter what my Uncle says, I'm unlikely to ever grow into it, so you might as well have it."

Russell was somewhat taken aback. "Are you sure?"

Remy grinned and nodded. "Someone might as well wear it. I'm pretty sure the owl doesn't want to have to carry it back."

Russell smiled broadly. "Thanks, Remy. What are you going to call it anyway? The owl I mean, not the jumper."

Remy tilted his head to the left, considering. "Dunno. What do people normally call owls."

"Mine's called Herbert," offered Tonks. "But my dad named him."

"Mine's called Oswald." Russell shrugged slightly apologetically. "Not very original I'm afraid."

Several other names were suggested up and down the table, including 'Sausage Thief' from Rob. Remy listened and sighed.

"I'm no good at naming things. I had a dog once, a long time ago. I called it Deefah."

"Deefah?"

"Deefah Dog."

Tonks groaned. "Deefah. D for dog. Oh gods, Remy, that's bad."

Remy grinned sheepishly as Erica tried not to choke on her pumpkin juice. "I know."

Professor Snape paused as he passed Remy on his way to breakfast. "That owl looks like it fell down a chimney." He swept on down to join Professor McGonagall on the dais.

"Hmm. He's right. You do look like you fell down a chimney. Sooty."

The owl looked up and stared straight at Remy.

Rob chuckled. "Hell, he even answers to it. Hey, no. No more sausages, Sooty. You've had three already."

-o-o-o-

Remy followed Dumbledore into his office. Dumbledore pointed to a package on one of the side tables. "It's addressed to you, care of me. Apparently your godfather was unsure exactly what name to address it to, so he decided to send it via me for safety. I have to say, I was unaware you even had a godfather."

Remy shrugged. "That was my dad's idea. He said I needed a godfather. Not sure why he picked Slugger, but he's pretty cool."

Dumbledore smiled indulgently. "Cool is not a description I've ever heard associated with Horace Slughorn before. Are you aware that he was formerly the Potions Professor here at Hogwarts?"

Remy nodded. "Yeah, they both mentioned that."

"Ah, I see. And do I take it that your godfather is the reason you're managing to keep up with Professor Snape's classes?"

Remy grinned. "Yeah. He's always trying to teach me about potions whenever I go visit him. Blown more than a few holes in his walls, and he never gets mad at me for it."

Dumbledore smiled at the mental image of Remy blowing a few holes in Horace Slughorn's walls. "Perhaps it would be best not to mention that he's your godfather, especially to Professor Snape."

Remy started to unwrap his parcel. "I wasn't going to mention it to anyone. Cool. Text books!"

Dumbledore chuckled. "That's not most people's reaction to a delivery of text books."

Remy shrugged sheepishly. "At least I can take the books I borrowed back to the library now. Madam Pince will be relieved that they're all safe. She seems a little protective of the books in there."

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, although she is an excellent librarian, she does seem to worry a lot of the students. Never be afraid to ask her for help in there if you need it though, Remy. I've never found her to be anything other than professional."

Remy nodded in agreement. "I think a lot get put off by her appearance, which in unfair. She can't help looking like an underfed vulture."

Dumbledore actually laughed. "That's a description I believe it would be best not to repeat within Madam Pince's hearing."

-o-o-o-

Alastor Moody was not a happy man. He'd looked up Siberia on various maps before he'd left on this assignment. He knew it was in Russia, and he'd been to Russia a few times, but never Siberia specifically, and it was remarkably hard to pinpoint. On some maps, the word "Siberia" hovered across the northern third of Asia, apparently unconnected to any place in particular, while other maps seemed to have no mention of it at all, as though it had simply been erased from the planet.

He knew it existed. In fact, he knew it was huge. Barty Crouch, the Head of the Department of International Magic Cooperation, had told him it accounted for one twelfth of all the land on earth, yet a tiny fraction of the world's population lived there. It also had the largest forest in the world running across it. For some reason, Barty had seemed to think Moody would find that fact fascinating. Moody had been more interested in the cities located there and any museums or art galleries they may have. Barty had grumbled at him, in a few different languages, some of which Moody recognised, before finally relenting and giving him a huge file of information.

"You do realise this job is not likely to be simple or pleasant. It's not a sightseeing opportunity."

"Damn few of my jobs are ever simple or pleasant, Barty," growled Moody, as he stomped off to peruse the file.

He was currently in the middle of Siberia, on the edges of the taiga forest Barty had been so keen to tell him about. He'd expected Siberia to be cold ... frozen ... white. But this? This was ridiculous. This was hot, dry and dusty, with a slight smoky haze drifting through the trees, indicating a fire somewhere in the taiga. Even with his temperature regulating travel cloak, he was sweating rivers.

He swatted his hand at the swarm of biting midges and raised his omniculars. He watched the small huddle of men intently, frowning as they started to argue among themselves, gesticulating wildly at each other, then chuckled as it turned out they'd been arguing over who should drive. He sighed, pocketed the omniculars, and reached for his broom. It was going to be another long day. Trailing Muggle criminals was already proving to be a tedious job.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Remy's second week went much the same way as the first. Laurence tried to pick a fight on a couple of occasions, but there was always a Professor nearby, which curtailed most of the incidents without any real damage. Morgan was obviously still angry about his black eye and managed to corner Remy a few times, apparently anxious for a rematch. For a wizard, Remy had to admit that Morgan was pretty good at fighting, and being the larger of the two, he should have had the advantage. Unfortunately for Morgan, Remy had years of experience, as well as speed and agility, on his side, and managed to escape relatively unscathed from their encounters. The worst of the incidents resulted in them scrapping in a corridor, knocking over a suit of armour, and earning them both a deduction of house points and a detention.

Sheridan gave Remy his seventh personal detention for still refusing to wear his uniform, saying that he knew a uniform had been delivered. When Remy pointed out it had just been a jumper, and it hadn't fitted him anyway, he earned his eighth for arguing. His ninth was for 'a pathetic attempt at homework'. Remy bristled with indignation, but kept quiet. His homework hadn't been pathetic. True, he wasn't trying to get top marks in any subject. Just enough to keep the Professor's happy and off his back was all he was aiming for. But pathetic? Mad-Eye had taught him Dark Arts too well for that, and Remy knew it.

Sooty dropped another parcel to Remy at breakfast on Friday. Remy glanced at the package. 'Uncle Fitz' again. He opened it warily and stared at the hooded top inside, then banged his head on the table. Rob looked at him with concern.

"Hey, you'll dint the table."

Remy looked up with a resigned expression on his face. "Good point. I'd probably get a detention for doing that."

Danny frowned. He was starting to worry about Remy. "Another jumper?"

"Hooded top."

"A better size this time?"

Remy shrugged. "Possibly."

Professor McGonagall stopped and looked. "Ah, another top. Let's see if this is a better size, Logan."

Remy sighed and held up the top. It was a better size. Slightly. It would still have been too big. However, size was not the issue this time.

"Ah. Yes. I'm beginning to think that your Uncle may not be the ideal person to acquire your uniform."

"Yeah. I was thinking that too, Professor."

The hooded top was in Slytherin's colors. On the table behind, Erica was once again choking on her breakfast, while Tonks could do nothing for laughing. Even Josh was grinning like an idiot. Danny looked at Remy, then at the top, then at Josh.

"Might fit Josh."

Remy stood up and handed it out to the older Slytherin boy. "Sooty doesn't do returns."

Josh grinned and took the top, quickly pulling it over his shirt. "Perfect fit. Cheers, Remy."

"Don't thank me, thank my Uncle."

"I can't wait to see what he sends you next," giggled Tonks.

Remy shook his head. "I daren't even think about it."

-o-o-o-

It was a blustery night with rain pelting incessantly against the windows. Wind howled around the corners and fought its way through the narrow openings in the window to billow the curtains around the 4 poster beds into weird shapes which blossomed into ghosts, before collapsing limply back against the beds.

Remy sat bolt upright in bed, panting hard. Another nightmare. He'd hoped the worst of these were behind him, but he'd had a few since arriving at Hogwarts. Luckily, so far none had been so bad that he couldn't get back to sleep again. Eventually. But he knew this one was different. He had that achy, gnawing feeling in his stomach. He sighed and slipped quietly out of bed, grabbed his astronomy book, and padded down the stairs to the common room.

He read for a while, by the light of his wand, but he couldn't concentrate. His mind was full of swirling shadows. Maybe a walk would calm him. He stowed his book safely and set off out of the tower. The Grey Lady looked a little surprised that he was up so late, but she made no comment as he started off down the staircase, waiting impatiently as the various stairs slid into place. He was momentarily tempted to go back and grab his skateboard, but he remembered Al telling him firmly, no skateboarding, and thought better of it.

He made his way quietly around the corridors, listening carefully to make sure he wasn't discovered. Everyone seemed to be sleeping peacefully in their beds. He crept along an outer corridor and found a window that he knew opened. He opened the window slightly and breathed in deep lungfuls of cold, fresh air. After a few minutes, he shivered, so he closed the window and settled on the window ledge, peering out at the twinkling stars. He was so intent on picking out the various constellations, that he completely forgot about keeping an ear out for any approaching trouble.

"Couldn't sleep, boy?"

Remy looked around, startled. Snape was still fully dressed and glaring at him sternly.

"Um. No, Sir. Needed some air."

"Hmm, well you should be in bed, not wandering the corridors at night, in shorts and a tee-shirt. Are you trying to catch your death?"

"I'm not cold. Honest." Remy tried to look repentant, but since Snape's expression didn't alter, he wasn't sure he was successful. Snape appeared to be trying to decide what to do next.

"You ought to at least have a dressing gown."

Remy shrugged. "I could ask my Uncle to send me one, but if his efforts so far are anything to go by, he'll send something so big we could use it as a Marquee in the grounds and hire it out for weddings."

"You shouldn't be wandering the corridors at night. It may not be ... safe. Detention, Mr Logan."

"I think I have a vacancy about Easter."

Snape frowned. "Excuse me?"

Remy grinned, sheepishly. "Professor Sheridan has me booked up for detentions. I may be free about Easter."

Snape's eyes narrowed as he thought about this. "Well, tomorrow night you'll be doing a detention for me instead. I'll talk to Professor Sheridan about it. Now, back to bed, before I make it a week of detentions and deduct house points."

Remy scrambled off the window ledge and set off towards the Gryfindor Tower, Snape's parting words floating down the corridor behind him.

"And next time, stay in your own tower."

-o-o-o-

"Hey, Rob. You seen Remy?"

"Nope. Sorry, Mac. Haven't seen him since classes finished."

"Where the hell is he then? We were supposed to be skimming stones down by the lake. Never mind, maybe he's already there."

Mac never quite made it down as far as the lake. Part way down the path, there was a group gathered around a couple of boys who were mid scuffle. There were a fair few Slytherins, led by Laurence, all cheering on Morgan, and the rest seemed to be mainly rooting for Remy. Mac jogged the last few yards to see what was happening.

"Hey, come on guys. Cut that out."

"Get lost, MacEnzie."

Mac looked around the group. Most were third and fourth year boys, from all four houses, with a few younger Slytherin too. The fight itself seemed to be more of a scuffle than a full blown punch up. Morgan seemed to be making most of the aggressive moves, swinging punches wildly at Remy, encouraged by his sister Arial, while Remy ducked and weaved and stayed out of range, occasionally clipping Morgan with a fast jab or counter punch.

"Seriously, guys, knock it off. You're attracting way too much attention."

Remy glanced at Mac and took a couple of steps back from Morgan, as if offering to walk away. Morgan wasn't quitting quite that easily. He pursued Remy and attempted to launch a flurry of punches at the smaller boys head, using his superior reach. Remy ducked under the punches easily, before twisting and bobbing back up to one side of Morgan, clipping him firmly on the ear with a sharp right jab. Morgan cried out in pain and surprise, and clutched his ear, spinning to face Remy once again.

"Logan! Morgan!" The familiar, superior sounding voice with the slight Welsh lilt, bellowed out from behind Mac.

"Shit! Sheridan! Run!" The crowd started to melt away quickly as people suddenly realised they had better places to be. Sheridan glared around the remaining throng.

"Do none of you have any homework you should be doing? I'm sure I could arrange extra work for any of you who are at a loss for something to do."

There were mumbles and mutterings around the group, and more slipped away discretely. Mac stood his ground. Remy had a resigned, yet stubborn expression on his face. Morgan was holding his ear while Laurence peered at it with an air of concern, casting a few sneaky glances at Sheridan to see if he was buying the act.

"Move! All of you! Go!" Professor Sheridan practically snarled at the last remaining stragglers. Remy and Mac stayed put. Laurence and Morgan made to follow their friends. "Not you, Fishman. Morgan. You stay. MacEnzie, are you waiting for something in particular? I can ensure you get extra homework if you are short of things to do."

Mac shot Remy an apologetic look, and headed reluctantly back towards the school.

Sheridan glared at Arial. "What are you waiting for, girl. Go."

Arial glared back at him. "You told me to stay."

"No, I told Morgan and Fishman to stay."

"And I am Morgan. Arial Morgan."

"Oh. Yes. Of course." Sheridan looked somewhat flustered. "Well, I meant your brother. You can leave. Go."

Arial harrumphed and grumbled, but reluctantly followed Mac.

"So, gentlemen. Who started this little incident?"

Morgan opened his mouth to speak, but Laurence beat him to it. "He did. He hit Morgan." Laurence pointed straight at Remy with not one iota of guilt showing.

"I might have guessed. What do you have to say for yourself, Logan?"

Remy just shrugged. He had a feeling that it wouldn't matter what he had to say, so saying nothing seemed like the smart move.

"Away, Fishman. Take Morgan and get his ear seen to."

Laurence threw Remy a glare of pure malice and satisfaction, and tugged at Morgan's sleeve. Morgan frowned, but reluctantly followed Laurence.

"You, Logan, are a disgrace to this school and the uniform that you seem determined not to wear. I understand a uniform was delivered to you again today. Since you are not wearing it, I will assume you are deliberately breaking the rules, or are you going to claim this uniform also failed to fit you?"

Remy just stared blankly at him.

"So on top of the detention you received earlier for handing in your homework late, and the one you received for arguing about it, we can now add a detention for failing to wear the uniform, and a further detention for fighting. On top of that, you are forbidden to leave the school for a fortnight. The grounds are out of bounds for you, unless it is for a class or a detention. Oh, and a deduction of 10 house points. You really are one of the most stupid people it has ever been my misfortune to meet. Get out of my sight."

Remy shrugged and headed back to the school. Mac was waiting for him near the gateway, and fell in beside him, matching his stride.

"You ok?"

"Yeah. Fine, thanks."

"Detention?"

"Yep."

"Damn, Remy. How many is that now?"

"From Sheridan? Seventeen I think."

"Seventeen?" Mac stopped dead in his tracks. "In two weeks? Seventeen detentions? But that's just stupid."

"Just like me then." Remy continued back into the school, leaving Mac in his wake, trying to work out how Remy could possible have earned that many detentions from one Professor in just two weeks.


	9. Chapter 8

Remy was very quiet during breakfast the next morning. He gnawed unenthusiastically on a slice of toast and drank some orange juice, but never looked round or joined in any conversations. He even ignored a couple of barbed comments directed at him from the Slytherin table. Tonks frowned. She'd got used to Remy's smart remarks and easy grin.

Danny was also frowning. Remy had been quiet all evening, busying himself with some assignment or other. Mac sat down and glanced down the table at Remy. Danny caught his eye and shrugged. Mac frowned and absentmindedly poured milk on his cornflakes until the bowl threatened to overflow. Remy stood up to leave. Mac swallowed his mouthful of cornflakes quickly.

"Hey, Remy, gonna come skim stones down at the lake? Tonks reckons she can beat Danny. I reckon she can't"

Tonks grinned. "Oh, I know I can beat Danny. I'd probably beat you too, if you weren't too chicken to take me on."

Mac grinned at her. "Beat Danny, and we'll see. You coming, Remy?"

Remy shook his head. "Can't today."

"Perhaps if you spent more time studying and less time fighting, you could join your friends, Logan." Professor McGonagall favored Remy with one of her sternest stares as she paused on her way down the centre aisle.

Remy just shrugged. "Maybe, Professor." He left without another word.

Danny watched him go, slightly stunned. "Damn, Mac, what happened yesterday."

Mac shook his head and frowned. "Not sure, Danny. I'm going to find out though."

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips. "What happened was Logan instigated a fight with a fellow pupil. Fighting will not be tolerated at Hogwarts. If you want to help your friend, perhaps you should encourage him to find the library and devote his energies to his studies."

Mac frowned. "He knows where the library is, Professor. That's where he's been getting his books from. And I'm not sure he started that fight."

Professor McGonagall waved her hands dismissively. "That's not what Professor Sheridan says. Eat your breakfast, MacEnzie."

-o-o-o-

Mac and Josh went in search of Remy after breakfast, but despite a thorough search of all the places they thought he might be, they failed to find him.

"Come on. Let's go to the lake. I want to see the look on Danny's face when Tonks beats him."

Mac raised an eyebrow. "You really think Tonks will win?"

"Hell yes. I've seen her skim. She's good. She could probably beat you."

-o-o-o-

Remy didn't make an appearance at lunch. Tonks was too busy gloating about her victory over Danny to really notice, and the others were too caught up in the good natured banter between them to worry. Mac started to worry when Remy failed to show for dinner. Even Charlie Weasley asked Tonks where her new sparring partner was today. She just shook her head and shrugged.

"No-one's seen him since breakfast."

Professor McGonagall followed Dumbledore out of the dining hall. "Headmaster."

Dumbledore spun around. "Ah, Minerva. Did you want something? I do have some paperwork to finish, but I'm sure I can spare you a few minutes."

"This will only take a few minutes." She followed him into his office, sitting down and accepting the offered cup of tea. "I'm concerned about Logan. He has apparently been missing since breakfast. His friends don't seem to be able to find him, and he wasn't at lunch or dinner. He was very quiet at breakfast. I know he had a run in with Professor Sheridan yesterday, but if he's sulking, then this seems somewhat excessive."

Dumbledore listened and nodded. "If Remy were indeed sulking, I would be inclined to agree that it would seem a tad excessive. To the best of my knowledge, sulking is not something that Remy tends to do. Rather, he tends to over analyse things, usually to his own detriment. However, in this instance, I can assure you that the boy is fine. Please, don't worry about him. I'm sure that, after a good nights sleep, he'll be back to his usual self."

McGonagall regarded him closely through narrowed eyes. "You know something that I don't. Again."

Dumbledore smiled benignly. "Did anyone think to look for Remy in the hospital wing?"

McGonagall frowned. "The boy is ill?"

"He had a migraine. I understand he is prone to them sometimes, especially if he hasn't been sleeping well. He was looking rather pale in the library this morning. I suggested he pay a visit to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey insisted he stay there all day, and he'll be sleeping there tonight. Hopefully he should be back to normal by morning. More tea?"

Professor McGonagall declined with a shake of the head as she contemplated this information. "I'm surprised Poppy didn't inform me of this. I am Head of his House after all."

"Well, it is a weekend, Minerva. I'm sure had it been a weekday, you would have been notified."

She looked a little mollified at that. Professor Dumbledore decided to switch the conversation before she pursued the issue further.

"How are you finding our new staff members?

McGonagall smiled. "Altaira is a very striking young woman, and seems well versed in her subject."

Dumbledore nodded. "I had read her book and thought she would be a wonderful addition to our staff."

"I don't believe I've read that book."

"There is a copy in the library, I believe. 'The Physics of Solar Flares'. And Professor Sheridan?"

McGonagall paused and thought. "He seems … well qualified." She was choosing her words even more carefully than normal. Dumbledore raised an eyebrow and waited for her to continue. "He seems to work his students hard, which is not a bad thing, and he gets on well with the majority of his colleagues. I'd say that, given time, he could turn out to be a great asset to the school."

"Indeed. I have heard similar things from others. However, what I asked was, how are you finding him."

McGonagall smiled a little ruefully. "Yes. I know. I was …"

"Evading the question?"

She chuckled. "I was going to say, I was evaluating my response. Very well, I find him somewhat aloof and distant. I have been unable to engage him in any meaningful conversation as yet. To be honest, I have the feeling that he's avoiding me."

"Avoiding you?"

"Well, maybe avoiding is not quite the right word. Please don't get me wrong, Albus. He is always polite and respectful, he just doesn't seem to want to … socialise. Well, not with me anyway. It's just a feeling I have, that's all. It's probably just because he's new. I'm sure he'll settle in."

"Would you say he gets on well with the students?"

She thought about that for a moment. "Perhaps that would not be the right description. As I said, he seems to work them hard, but then Dark Arts is a rather intense subject. I have had no complaints about him."

"Hmmm. I had thought that perhaps he was having issues with … certain students."

"Ah. You mean Logan."

Dumbledore smiled. "Perhaps, although I have heard rumors that more than one student feels a little … singled out."

"I can't say that I'd noticed. He does seem to be a little quick to hand out detentions. I'm sure things will soon settle down."

Dumbledore nodded. "I hope you're right, Minerva."

-o-o-o-

Remy reappeared at breakfast on Sunday and was greeted with grins from Danny, Erica and Josh, and concerned questions about his health from Mac, Charlie and Tonks. He reassured them that he was fine, and spent the next half hour half listening to the chatter about him while chewing unenthusiastically on a slice of toast.

"Remy. Remy!"

Remy finally looked round at Tonks. "What?"

"Do you want to explore the East Tower?"

"What? Now?"

"Yes. Now. Honestly. Boys! You all get lost in your own little worlds."

Remy grinned sheepishly. "Sorry."

"So are you coming?"

"Coming where?"

Erica started laughing and almost choked on her pumpkin juice. Tonks just rolled her eyes.

Danny leant in and whispered loudly in Remy's ear. "Just nod, say yes, and follow her. It'll be safer for everyone."

Remy grinned and nodded at Tonks. "Yes."

-o-o-o-

"So what is this place?"

"I told you. It's the East Tower. Pay attention Remy."

"So what are we doing?"

"Exploring. Merlin's teeth, were you not listening at all at breakfast?"

"Not much," admitted Remy. "So why are we exploring the East Tower?"

"Because I'm bored, Charlie is playing Quidditch, Erica has choir practise, Danny and Matt are skimming stones, yet again, and you can't leave the school."

Remy considered that. "Fair enough."

They explored the East Tower for a happy couple of hours, never attempting to open any locked doors. Near the top, Remy found a small room with a couple of old chairs and a desk, a painting on the wall covered with an old dust sheet, and a good view of the grounds and Forbidden Forest. They peeked under the dust sheet a very strange picture. A bright blue sky, a blood red road and a brick-red wall, all drawing the eye towards the Eiffel Tower in the centre. There was also a horse in the bottom left, and a small train crossing a bridge. In some ways, it looked like a painting that had been done by a small child, but Remy was willing to bet it was the work of a famous artist and was probably worth a small fortune. They exchanged shrugs, and let the sheet drop back into place.

"This would be a great place to draw."

"Are you mad? It's a draughty, dusty old room with nothing in it."

"Good view though, and quiet too. No interruptions."

Tonks looked doubtful. "I suppose so, if you like drawing."

Remy grinned. "I do. Not got any paper with me though. Maybe I could ask my Uncle to send me some. And some pencils."

Tonks grinned. "If he does as good with that as your uniform, you'll probably get a ball of wool and a sewing kit. Come on. Lunch time. I'm hungry."


	10. Chapter 9

Monday morning again, and Professor Snape swept in as usual and took his place at the front of the class.

"Turn to chapter 4 and …" he stopped and starred dumbfounded at Remy. "Logan. I see you've acquired yet another new uniform."

Remy grinned innocently. "At least this one fits, Sir."

"Yes. I can see that. I was just wondering how long the uniform had been pinstripe board shorts."

"Ah, yeah. Well, you see, I guess my Uncle read my letter wrong. It's just, people keep telling my jeans are scruffy and I should look smarter, and I think he thought pinstripe was smarter."

The rest of the class were in fits of giggles, including Morgan and Arial, although Laurence was trying to look disdainful. Snape just rolled his eyes. "Chapter 4. Incidentally, Logan, a white tee-shirt with a tie drawn on it is definitely not what is meant by 'white shirt and tie' in the school regulations. See me afterwards."

-o-o-o-

Herbology passed without incident, although Professor Sprout did smile at the sight of Remy in board shorts.

Remy took his seat quickly for Transfiguration. He was unsure Professor McGonagall would get the joke.

The lesson went quickly, and Remy managed to follow most of it without his head hurting, which was a minor miracle as far as he was concerned. At the end of the class, he attempted to make a hasty retreat, but Professor McGonagall had positioned herself between Remy and the exit. He took a deep breath, grabbed his pack, stood up and headed nonchalantly for the exit.

"Ah, Logan."

Remy stopped and smiled. "Yes, Professor?"

She looked him up and down and rolled her eyes. "Well, I'd heard rumors about a new uniform, but still …"

He grinned sheepishly. "It's better than the last attempt."

"Shorts?"

Remy looked down at them. "At least they're black."

"Well, yes. Mostly. Pinstripe?"

He shrugged. "I could have gone for the skull and crossbones pair."

She shuddered. "Well, thank you for that small mercy. At least the hooded top fits, even if it isn't quite the right color. Is your Uncle color blind?"

He grinned. "Actually, I got my Godfather to send me this stuff from home, when he sent me my telescope."

"Ah. Is it too much to hope that a shirt and tie came with the package?"

He fidgeted a little. "Um, well, kinda. I don't think I own a shirt, and I certainly don't own a tie."

She fixed him with a steely gaze. He sighed and wriggled out of his top. She stared at his tee-shirt and started laughing. "I should probably be deducting house points for making a mockery of the uniform, but I also think I should be adding points for creativity and lateral thinking. However, it would be better if you could manage to acquire a shirt and tie and black trousers."

He grinned and held up a tie. "Got a tie … I just don't know how to tie the damn thing."

She chuckled. "And where did you get the tie?"

"Professor Snape. Well, he's lent me it until I get one of my own. I really don't know how to tie it though."

She motioned with her hand. "Give it here."

She deftly wrapped the tie around Remy's neck and tied it, adjusting it until it was positioned over the tie drawn on his tee-shirt. She stepped back to admire her work.

"Not too bad, though it would be better with a shirt. And please, wear your jeans." She shook her head. "Words I never thought I'd hear myself say."

-o-o-o-

Remy woke in a pool of sweat, the nightmare images still dancing around in front of his eyes. All he could make any sense of were the glowing purple eyes, the smell of blood, and the darkness of the forest. Everything else was a blur of shadows. He lay still for a few minutes, trying to get his breathing under control.

He hated the nightmares. Sometimes he could remember them, vividly, for days. Mostly he was left with a deep feeling of unease, and nothing he could actually describe to anyone. The nightmares weren't usually a problem at home. They were few and far between, and Al always seemed to be able to tell when he needed a reassuring hug. But here ... well, here was different. He could hardly try and explain his nightmares to any of his fellow students. Maybe Dumbledore would understand, but he wasn't sure how to start a conversation like that. Best he dealt with the nightmares in his own way.

Making sure he hadn't woken anyone with his night time thrashings, he slid out of bed and padded on bare feet from the dorm, and down the stairs to the common room. It was deserted, and he sat there for a few minutes, listening to the wind howl around the tower. He peered out of the window, but all he could see was blackness. He didn't want to open the window and let the cold night air in, as that might wake someone. So he headed out from the Gryfindor Tower and into the rest of the school.

For a moment he considered heading to the window he knew opened, but Snape had caught him there last time, so he set off in the opposite direction instead. He padded around aimlessly for a while, lighting his way with his wand from time to time, and getting the odd comment of "Put that light out" from the portraits in the corridors. Eventually, he stopped using the wand and relied solely on his night vision, which was much better than most peoples anyway.

Suddenly he stopped. He could hear footsteps. Shuffling footsteps. As though someone was dragging something. Actually, it was more of a slithering noise. He tilted his head to one side. The noise was getting nearer. He turned around and set off at speed back down the corridor, away from the slithering. Rounding a corner, he ran straight into Professor Snape.

"Watch where you're going, boy."

"Sorry, Professor."

"You shouldn't be out of bed. We've had this discussion before." Snape was staring past Remy, as though trying to see round the corner. Remy listened hard. The slithering noises had stopped.

"Sorry, Professor. Couldn't sleep."

"You are supposed to stay in your tower. These corridors are not the place for students at night. I thought the Headmaster had made that clear at dinner."

Remy could hear footsteps again, fainter, heading away. No shuffling or dragging noises though. Just the one set of footsteps. Snape managed to finally focus his gaze on Remy. Remy grinned, sheepishly. "Sorry, Professor. I wasn't really paying attention"

Snape seemed to think for a moment, then turned abruptly on his heels and set off at speed down the corridor. Remy watched him go, bemused and uncertain what to do.

"Come, boy."

Remy shrugged to himself and set off after Snape at a jog. Snape led the way through various corridors, finally stopping and opening a door. Remy frowned. The teacher's common room? His heart sank. He was in trouble. Again.

"In."

Remy slipped nervously into the room, followed closely by Snape. He peered around at the assortment of battered yet comfy looking chairs, and the bookshelves filled with all manner of books. Snape crossed the room to a pair of chairs by a small table. He pointed to the other chair.

"Sit."

Remy practically scampered across the room and sat down. Snape reached to the shelf beside him and produced a chess board and a box, which he placed on the table. Remy groaned. Snape fixed him with a steely gaze.

"Problem, boy?"

Remy shook his head.

"Do you know how to play chess?"

Remy frowned as Snape deftly set up the delicately carved olivewood chess pieces on the chess board. "Not exactly. Couple of people tried teaching me, so I know which piece moves which way, but I'm just no good at it. I don't concentrate that well."

"Well, now is your opportunity to practise."

He moved a white pawn on the board.

"Your move."

Remy tried to remember everything Remus had tried to teach him about chess, but the truth was, he really wasn't that good at concentrating and had never really mastered the game. He sighed and made his move. The black and white pawns glared at each other menacingly and Remy grinned. Although he didn't really like the game, it definitely made it more interesting when the chess pieces were magic. Snape responded quickly with his counter move, and Remy thought again, before moving his next piece. Snape played quickly, barely giving Remy time to blink between moves. After a dozen or so moves, Snape moved his knight with a flourish.

"Check mate."

Remy shrugged. "Told you I was no good."

"Try again." Snape reset the board quickly and waited for Remy to make his move. After several minutes of slightly slower play, Snape once again won. Remy grinned and shook his head.

"I did tell you I was no good at this."

Snape merely reset the board. "Again."

The third game was slower than the first two, with Snape giving Remy time to consider his moves. Remy actually got so absorbed in the game that he failed to notice Madam Hooch stood behind him, until she leaned forwards and whispered in his ear.

"If you don't move your rook, you'll lose it."

Remy twisted round in his chair and stared at Madam Hooch in surprise. She simply gestured towards the chessboard.

"That could be construed as cheating," drawled Snape.

Remy returned his attention to the game, and after several seconds of study, moved his queen's side rook out of its corner to avoid the impending attack of Snape's bishop. "Thanks, Professor," he said with a smile.

Madam Hooch smiled at Snape's expression. "Don't worry. You can still win in ... seven moves."

Snape scowled and surveyed the chessboard. After his longest pause in the game so far, he moved his knight into a more threatening position.

"I believe you're right," he said wistfully. "I hadn't seen it before."

"What was it you said about cheating?" asked Remy, amused despite the fact that he was on the verge of losing yet another game.

"You're obviously no stranger to the game." Snape pointedly ignored Remy's comment and held Madam Hooche's gaze. "Care to play some time?"

She smiled. "Perhaps. I am a little out of practise."

"Gotta be better than me," grinned Remy.

"Checkmate."

"See. That's three in a row."

"You did better that time," conceded Snape. "Even without any help." He glared meaningfully at Madam Hooch, who merely smiled. Any thoughts of a fourth game were curtailed by the arrival of Professor McGonagall. She stopped dead in the doorway and stared at Remy, who squirmed in his chair. She turned her attention to Snape and glared meaningfully.

Snape merely waved a hand at Professor McGonagall. "Yes, I know, it's past his bedtime. However, he couldn't sleep and I thought he would be safer playing chess here than wandering the corridors. He is about to head back to bed. I will, of course, accompany him to the stairway, unless you would like to do so yourself."

She harrumphed slightly, before inclining her head. "Make sure he doesn't take a detour, Severus. Good night, Logan, and stay in the tower. It is not safe to wander the school corridors after dark."

"Is that because of the dragging footstep noises?" Remy lowered his eyes quickly to avoid the 3 pairs of eyes staring intently at him, and kicked himself for blurting that out without meaning to.

"What noises?" asked Snape.

Remy shrugged and tried his best innocent expression. "Was probably a trick of the night. Right before I ran into you, I thought I heard footsteps and a dragging noise."

Remy noticed the worried look that McGonagall shot at Snape.

"Perhaps it was the wind," suggested Snape.

"Probably," agreed Remy, and yawned. "Think I'll manage to sleep now. Thanks for the game, Professor."

"You're welcome." Snape rose and stretched. "Just don't make a habit of it. Back to bed. Come on."


	11. Chapter 10

The remainder of week three was an improvement on week two. Remy managed to avoid too many incidents with Professor Sheridan, and the other students had finally tired of asking him questions about his family and getting no real answers. Only Laurence seemed intent on discovering more about Remy's background, which led to a couple of minor scuffles, although Laurence had apparently realised that Remy was not going to be easy to push around and had taken to trying to set his goons on him instead. Morgan was a little more wary around Remy, as though he'd suddenly realised that underestimating the smaller boy had been a mistake, and Remy had no problems escaping unscathed and without attracting too much attention from any passing Professors. By the end of the week, Remy was feeling optimistic that this school may indeed be different from any others he'd ever been to.

However, week four did not get off to a good start. Sheridan seemed to be in an even worse mood than normal, and on Tuesday managed to give Remy a total of seven detentions in one day, breaking the all time record for Hogwarts. This was a fact that Charlie Weasley seemed to find fascinating, though Remy was less than impressed. He wasn't entirely sure how he could get a detention for running in a corridor when he'd been standing perfectly still as three Slytherin second year boys ran past him.

Tired of the constant conflict with Laurence, Morgan and Arial, and the increasing intimidation from Sheridan, Remy withdrew into his shell, distancing himself from his fellow students, and instead spent all his spare time in the library working on his latest Dark Arts assignment. He was determined to prove to Sheridan that he wasn't stupid and that he could do Dark Arts. Maybe then the man would leave him alone. By Thursday afternoon, Remy was satisfied that he'd finished his assignment to the best of his abilities, so he decided to hand it in. Remembering the fiasco over the assignment Sheridan claimed he hadn't handed in, when Remy knew damn well he had, he persuaded Danny to tag along with him this time, to act as an independent witness.

The two boys peeked into the Dark Arts room. It appeared to be deserted. Remy walked in and put his assignment on the designated table. He was just turning to leave when the office door opened and Sheridan emerged.

"Ah. Logan. Did you want to see me?"

"Um, no, Professor Sheridan. Just handing in my assignment."

Sheridan glanced at the table, and then at Remy. "So I see. It's early." He picked the report up and rifled through the pages without looking at them. "Too early. That means you have not spent sufficient time on it, which in turn means it will be sub-standard and not worth my valuable time to read."

He slowly and deliberately ripped Remy's assignment in two. Remy watched, stunned. Behind him, he head Danny yell out.

"You can't do that!"

Sheridan blanched slightly as he realised he had an audience, but he composed himself quickly. "I can and I have, Daniels. Logan, detention … for having the audacity to submit sub-standard work. You will do the assignment again, this time to a satisfactory level. Deadline lunchtime tomorrow, remember. No exceptions. After that, it will be late, and that in turn means a detention. That, I believe, would be your third late homework, which is an automatic detention in itself. I would suggest you get started on it immediately in order to avoid that."

Remy glared at a gloating Professor Sheridan, then turned and left the room with Danny close behind him.

"Hey. Slow up, Remy. Remy!"

But Remy strode on towards the Quad, oblivious of Danny's protests.

Laurence was in the Quad with Morgan and two more of his followers, sheltering in a corner from the strong gusts of wind that were driving clumps of leaves around the area in tornado like swirls. He looked up and spotted Remy. "Oh, look. It's the dumb one. So dumb, he can't even answer a simple question about pixies. You know, pretty soon, people are going to realise that you're just too dumb to be here. It's useless idiots like you that bring the reputation of the school down.

His friends started laughing. Remy seemed to barely acknowledge their existence. Danny stepped between Laurence and Remy in an attempt to diffuse the situation.

"Leave it Fish Face. Get to whatever class you're supposed to be in."

Laurence just sneered. "Free period. I can be wherever I want to be."

Danny glared at him. "Well, start wanting to be someplace else."

Laurence laughed. "I like it here. Besides, I was here first. Take your pet and leave, Daniels."

Danny turned away from Laurence and grabbed Remy's arm. "Come on. Let's go."

Remy shrugged him off and just started at the roofs of the school buildings, unseeingly.

Laurence laughed again. "Oh dear, it appears your pet doesn't want to play. Aw diddums."

"Shut up, Fish Face."

"Make me, Daniels."

Danny and Laurence squared up to each other, with Laurence pulling himself up to his full height and puffing out his chest. The two boys were about the same size, and Danny didn't seem at all impressed by Laurence's posturing. He just stared boldly at the Slytherin boy. Laurence fidgeted, feeling uncomfortable with the stare and unsure what to do next. He pushed Danny. Danny stood his ground and just smiled. Laurence pushed him again. Danny took one small step backwards. Laurence smiled triumphantly and pushed Danny again. Danny raised his hands to push Laurence back, but was surprised as Remy literally shot past and launched himself at Laurence with a growl. Remy swung a left hook, catching Laurence square on the jaw. Laurence went down with a howl, clutching his face.

"He hit me!"

Danny grabbed Remy's arm and pulled him back. "Come on, let's go."

Laurence stumbled back to his feet, still clutching his face. "He hit me!"

"Well spotted. Now get out of here." Danny tugged Remy's arm. Remy glared at Laurence, but allowed Danny to pull him away.

"You're going to pay for that, Logan."

Danny was surprised once again as Laurence launched himself at Remy, rugby tackling him to the floor. Remy twisted in Laurence's grip and fell backwards to the floor, banging his head. He grimaced and tried to push Laurence from him. The two of them rolled around on the ground, trading punches for a few moments, with Danny yelling at them to stop, and the Slytherin boys cheering Laurence on.

Remy felt a little dizzy, but concentrated on trying to get Laurence off him, landing a few hard jabs to his rib cage. Suddenly, Remy felt a strong hand grab his shoulder and yank him upwards. At the same time, Laurence was pulled away. Remy struggled briefly to escape the grasp and launch another attack on Laurence, but the hand holding him merely tightened and shook him slightly.

"Calm down, boy."

Remy vaguely recognised the hissed voice as belonging to Professor Snape. He looked over at Laurence, and realised Professor Sheridan had Laurence in hand, although far from shaking him, Sheridan was peering at his face with concern and dabbing at his split lip. Sheridan looked over at Remy with an expression of triumphant malevolence. Remy groaned inwardly and stopped struggling. Snape kept hold of his shoulder, positioning himself firmly between Remy and Sheridan, and peering at him with a look fairly close to concern.

"Are you alright, boy?"

Remy nodded mutely and took a calming breath. He'd really blown it this time. He was probably going to get kicked out for this. Al was not going to be impressed.

"Fighting again, Logan. And an unprovoked attack at that." Sheridan was doing little to hide the glee in his voice. "I knew you'd reveal your true colors eventually. We'll see what the Headmaster has to say about this."

Remy grimaced as a bolt of pain shot through the back of his head. He lifted his hand to rub it, and was puzzled to find it was damp and sticky. He stared at his hand. Red. Weird, it shouldn't be red. Snape saw his confused expression and looked at his hand. He twisted Remy around deftly, and Remy heard a sharp intake of breath.

"Your head is bleeding, boy."

"That's probably why it hurts." Remy felt disconnected somehow, almost as though he was floating above his own body and staring down at the scene. Snape's hand tightened on his shoulder and he felt himself being pushed forwards towards the school. He managed to make his legs cooperate, although they felt somewhat wobbly.

"Professor Snape. Where are you going? I haven't finished with him." Sheridan sounded confused.

Snape never even slowed. "The boy is injured. He requires treatment. Daniels, get to class." He steered Remy into the school, as Danny literally ran off in the opposite direction. Professor Sheridan was left standing in the courtyard, surrounded by four indignant Slytherin boys, his jaw working noiselessly, making him look somewhat like a goldfish out of water.

Snape steered Remy swiftly up to the hospital wing. Remy just concentrated on putting on foot in front of the other without wobbling over. Snape only had to steady him once.

"Poppy!"

The fair haired nurse bustled through to the reception area and smiled at Snape, then frowned at the sight of Remy.

"He banged his head," explained Snape. "It's bleeding, and he seems a little dizzy."

She hurried over and quickly checked Remy's eyes, which were slow to respond, and then the back of his head. She shook her head and frowned at Snape.

He shrugged. "He fell backwards and banged his head."

"Fell, or was pushed."

"Tackled," mumbled Remy, quietly.

"Tackled?" Poppy turned him back to face her. "You were tackled? Was he playing Quidditch?" She looked questioningly at Snape, who shook his head.

"A minor skirmish. I'd expect Fishman to join us before too long. He may be advised to seek treatment for his jaw." Even to Remy's cotton wool filled ears, Snape was being very careful in his choice of words.

Poppy gave him a baleful stare, but he refused to be drawn further, so she turned her attention back to Remy, gripping his arm firmly. "Come with me." She led him through to the main area. "Sit down here. That's right. Are you feeling dizzy?"

"A little," mumbled Remy.

"Nauseous?"

"A bit."

"Sleepy?"

"Yeah. Sleepy. My head hurts too."

"Yes, well, it would. You've managed to split it open pretty comprehensively. You're concussed. You'll probably have a headache tomorrow. Again." She went to work, expertly cleaning Remy's head wound, eliciting the odd quiet yelp and ouch from him. Snape watched, remembering times when she'd cleaned up one of his injuries, after a 'skirmish'. He knew Remy was going to end up getting lectured about being more careful in future, but now was not the time for that. Right now, Snape doubted Remy was truly aware of where he was.

The door swung open and Laurence wandered in, clutching his face and making pitiful noises. He was accompanied by Morgan, with Professor Sheridan right behind them.

"Ah, there you are Snape. Glad to see you didn't let the young hoodlum out of your sight. Fishman here needs urgent treatment, Nurse. Morgan, could you go get the Headmaster? I'm sure he'll be interested to hear what's been happening."

Morgan made a move as though to head off, but a look from Snape froze him in place. Poppy merely glanced up at the newcomers, before turning her full attention back to Remy. She felt him tense as he finally realised Sheridan was in the room. He made a small move to distance himself from the Dark Arts Professor, but Poppy gripped his shoulder tightly.

"Hold still, Remy." She squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. He sat still, but still tensed and ready for flight. She looked meaningfully at Snape, who shot her a look before rolling his eyes and relenting. He reached forwards and gripped Remy's shoulder, forcing the boy to focus on his Potion's Professor. When she was sure Remy was staying put, she turned to Laurence, Morgan and Sheridan.

She strode over to Laurence, grasped his face gently in her hands and turned it from side to side, examining his jaw. He whimpered pathetically.

"Ow. That hurts. Ow. Ow."

"Be quiet, Mr. Fishman. Nothing broken. You'll be fine." She waved her wand and cast a charm, before dipping her finger in a jar on the table and rubbing something on his lip.

"Ow. Ow. OW. That's stings. Arrgghhh."

"Oh please, Mr. Fishman. There is no need for the dramatics. It's a split lip, and it will heal just fine. If your jaw is still sore in the morning, come back and see me. Now could you all please leave, I have a patient to attend to. Unless either of you are injured?"

She looked at Morgan, who shook his head quickly. She smiled and briskly ushered the trio outside, with Laurence still whimpering and Sheridan spluttering protests.

"But, my dear lady. Really. The boy is hurt. I must protest."

"Well, please protest elsewhere. And the boy is perfectly fine. Unless his jaw falls off, in which case, bring him back." Laurence's eyes widened at her words. Snape had to fight hard not to smile. She shut the door firmly and flicked her wand to lock it. "Ok, Remy. Let's have another look at your head."

Remy sat quietly as she checked his head again, gradually relaxing.

"Good. It seems the bleeding has stopped. Still feeling dizzy?"

"A bit, yeah."

"Nauseous?"

"Not so much. Just really tired."

She checked his eyes again. "Ok, well I think the best thing for you would be to get some sleep. Come on. Let's get you into bed. Severus, give me a hand please."

Snape looked a little taken aback, but after a dramatic roll of his eyes, he obediently helped Poppy get Remy into bed. She placed a cold compress on his head and tucked him in loosely. Remy automatically rolled onto his side and curled up slightly. She smiled and readjusted the covers over him. He yawned and closed his eyes. The world spun slower with his eyes closed.

Snape looked questioningly at Poppy. She smiled indulgently at him. "He'll be fine. I'll keep checking on him. He's going to have a sore head in the morning though."

Snape nodded. "I think perhaps Sheridan was right. I should go see the Headmaster."

"Good idea," agreed Poppy. "And should anyone ask, this one is not up for visitors. Maybe tomorrow."

-o-o-o-

Professor Sheridan had a head start on Snape and was already seated in the Headmaster's office with a cup of tea by his side.

"Ah, Severus. Come in. How's Logan?" Dumbledore handed Snape a cup of tea and indicated a chair. Snape sat down and took a sip.

"He's sleeping. Tomorrow he may be allowed visitors, but not before then."

Dumbledore nodded. "He's in good hands anyway."

"Headmaster, I must protest." Sheridan looked almost outraged. "Fishman was violently assaulted, completely unprovoked I may add, and you seem far more concerned for the welfare of his attacker."

Dumbledore waved his hands expressively. "No, I assure you, Professor Sheridan, I am concerned with the welfare of all my students. As I understand it, Mr. Fishman's injuries are minor compared to Mr. Logan's, namely he has suffered a split lip and a slightly bruised jaw. You told me yourself that Madam Pomfrey declared Fishman to be fine. Logan, however, appears to have sustained a rather nasty head injury. Ah, Minerva, there you are. Please, take a seat."

Professor McGonagall bustled in and took her seat, fussing with the folds on her cloak. She glanced sideways at Snape. "How is Logan?"

"He's sleeping. Poppy is keeping a close eye on him."

"Good, good." She smiled approvingly and declined the offer of tea from Dumbledore.

"Headmaster, please, can we return to the issue at hand."

"Yes, yes of course. Carry on, Professor Sheridan."

Sheridan smiled and stood up. "As I was saying, Fishman has been the victim of a completely unprovoked attack by Logan. This was no mere fight between two boys, it was an act of violence and pure malice, which the school surely can not condone. And this is not the first such instance of the boy's aggressive tendencies. I've had cause on more than one occasion to give the boy a detention for fighting, and those are just the fights I was lucky enough to find out about. His school work is way below standard, his attitude to the uniform is a disgrace, and his lack of respect and persistence in arguing is nothing short of pure rebellion. However, this time I fear he has gone too far. I really must insist that action is taken to remove the boy from this school immediately." He smiled his most insincere smile and settled back on his seat, satisfied that he had argued his case well.

"Hmm, well I always believe in hearing both sides of the story," mused Dumbledore. "The uniform issue is not a problem of his making, and I have heard no complaints from any other Professor's regarding the quality of his work. As for the issue of fighting, I would like to hear from Mr. Fishman and Mr. Logan, but with Logan currently too ill, that will have to wait until tomorrow. Were there any witnesses to this 'unprovoked' attack?"

"Yes, indeed Headmaster. Myself and Professor Snape witnessed it, and three other Slytherin third form boys were also present."

"Well, actually, we didn't witness any attack, Professor Sheridan," interjected Snape. "The fight was already underway when we arrived on the scene. Morgan, Siggers and Averay were already there, as was Daniels."

"Ah, yes, Mr. Daniels. I assume all three Slytherin boys will back Mr. Fishman's version of events."

Sheridan looked a little flustered. He glanced sideways at Snape, before managing to compose himself. "Yes, of course, Headmaster."

"Hmm, I thought so. And what about Daniels? Has anyone asked him about this incident?" Dumbledore turned expectantly to McGonagall.

She took a deep breath. "Well, actually, he came to me, with a somewhat different version of events."

"Well, of course he did," interrupted Sheridan. "It's simply a futile attempt to protect his friend. His loyalty is laudable, if misplaced."

Dumbledore smiled benignly at Sheridan. "Please continue, Minerva."

"According to Daniels, Fishman was taunting Logan. Name calling, insults, the usual kind of thing. Daniels tried to calm the situation, but Fishman refused to let it go. Daniels says Logan did indeed throw the first punch."

"Ah ha! I told you he attacked Fishman," gloated Sheridan.

"However, he only did so to protect Daniels from an attack by Fishman." Minerva favored Sheridan with one of her infamous icy stares, and he actually fidgeted in his seat. Snape had to take a sip of his tea to hide his smile. "Then as Daniels and Logan were leaving, Fishman attacked Logan, which is when he sustained his injury. It would seem that he fell backwards under the assault and banged his head on a rock. There is a blood stained rock in the courtyard. It seems his injury was accidental, if regrettable, although it could possibly have been avoided had Fishman walked away when he had the chance."

"Hmmm, well, that does sound like Logan may have attacked Fishman, but I'd hardly call it unprovoked." Dumbledore smiled at Sheridan.

Sheridan smiled wanely back. "Well, he did throw the first punch."

"Yes, yes it would appear that he did. But only after provocation from Fishman."

"He still needs to be disciplined. Detentions do not seem to have any affect on the boy. Heaven knows, I've tried that route myself with little avail. Perhaps a suspension at the least would be in order?" Sheridan looked hopefully at Dumbledore. "Surely we can not condone this type of behaviour."

"No, no I agree. Something must be done to prevent a recurrence of these events. However, I believe that we should wait until Logan is well enough to offer an explanation for his actions. Hopefully that will be early tomorrow morning, as I have business to attend to and I would like this matter to be concluded before I leave."


	12. Chapter 11

Remy woke with a throbbing pain in the back of his head. He didn't feel nauseous, or even dizzy. Just … well … fuzzy. That was the only way he could describe it. Fuzzy. He opened his eyes cautiously. It was daylight, but only just. He shifted in bed and groaned as his head exploded in pain. He closed his eyes and willed his head to stop throbbing. When he opened his eyes again, Poppy was standing by is bed, with a glass of greenish liquid in her hand and a concerned expression on her face.

"How are you feeling?"

"My head hurts."

Poppy nodded. "That's only to be expected, considering the gash you managed to put in it." She was pleased to see his eyes seemed to be focussing better this morning, and his voice sounded clearer. "Can you sit up?"

Remy struggled to sit up, but managed it unaided. Poppy beamed at him and handed him the glass. "Drink this. It should help stop your head hurting."

"Thanks." Remy drank the strange looking liquid without protest, but couldn't help screwing his face up at the taste."

Poppy chuckled. "Not the best of flavors, I'll admit, but it should help. Now, lie back down and get some rest, and I'll bring you some breakfast in a little while."

Remy lay down obediently and closed his eyes, waiting for his head to stop throbbing. He didn't mean to fall asleep, but he must have done. He woke slowly, keeping his eyes closed and his breathing steady, feigning sleep. It was a trick he'd perfected over the years. Even Al had a hard time telling if was truly asleep sometimes. He listened carefully, identifying the voices he could hear. Poppy, Dumbledore, and McGonagall. He listened hard, but they were the only voices he could hear.

"He was awake earlier, but he's asleep again, and I don't want to wake him. Rest is the best thing for him right now. I don't think he's been sleeping well. In fact, I'm sure that was the cause of his migraine the other week."

"Well, if he doesn't wake soon, any decisions will have to wait until I return from my meetings later today. I had hoped to hear Remy's side of things before I left."

"He'll be spending the rest of the day here anyway. I'm not sending him back to classes before he's fit."

"Probably a wise move, Poppy," agreed McGonagall. "

"Has Remy mentioned any problems, Minerva?"

"I know he's had problems sleeping occasionally, but I put that down to home sickness. He does seem a little too eager to start fights. I've had to give him two detentions already, and I know that Professor Sheridan has given him more for the same reasons. It is a little worrying, but if he has been fighting as much as Olwydd says, then he deserves all the detentions that come his way."

Remy heard Poppy's footsteps approaching, and concentrated on his breathing. Nice, steady, regular. She adjusted the covers over him, and he responded by simply mumbling and curling up a little more. Her footsteps faded as she went back to rejoin Dumbledore and McGonagall.

"He's still sleeping. Sorry, Albus, it seems this will have to wait until you return."

"Very well. Keep an eye on him please, Poppy. Minerva, try to placate Sheridan until I return, and have someone keep a watch on Remy when Poppy releases him from here. I do not want any more incidents before I return."

Remy lay still, listening as the door swung closed and three pairs of footsteps faded from his hearing. He opened his eyes carefully and peeked around. He was alone in the room. It was much lighter, and his head felt much better. His clothes were on the bed next to his. He snuck out of bed and crept over to the door, peeking through the glass window. No-one was in sight. He darted back to his clothes and dressed quickly. He wasn't about to stay here and wait for Sheridan to get him kicked out. If he wasn't wanted, he'd just leave.

He checked the corridor again. Still deserted. The door was locked, but a quick flick of his wand opened it. He crept into the corridor and checked Poppy's office, just to make sure, but that too was deserted. He made his way out of the hospital area. He could hear voices from below, and they sounded to be getting nearer. He set off up the staircase. Halfway up to the next floor, there was a window which opened onto the roof. He opened it noiselessly and slipped out onto the roof, closing the window behind him.

He paused and looked around to get his bearings. There was no way anyone could see him up here. He could see the woodland area off to one side, and made his way in that direction. He dropped quickly from the roof, using a fall pipe to guide him down. He crouched by the wall, sheltered from view by a couple of bushes, and looked around cautiously. Still no one in sight, and he hadn't heard any shouts. They probably hadn't even noticed he was missing yet.

He darted over to the safety of the trees and paused once again, hidden behind a tree trunk. He listened hard. Nothing. He grinned. Too easy. He thought about his next move. His head was still a little fuzzy and he just felt like running. Ranger! Ranger would be able to run through the Forbidden Forest without attracting the wrong kind of attention. And Al had always told him, if he needed to transform and run, then just do it. He closed his eyes, took a calming breath, and morphed into the wolf. One last look around, a quick sniff of the air, and he was off and running towards the depths of the Forbidden Forest.

-o-o-o-

He ran freely for what seemed like an age, simply enjoying the freedom, the wind in his face, the ground flying beneath his paws. He could lose himself like this for hours at home when the mood took him. This was the first time he'd indulged the wolf since arriving at Hogwarts. Maybe he should have done this sooner. He felt himself actually growing calmer the further he ran.

When he finally slowed and looked around, he had no idea where he was, but that didn't bother him too much. He'd simply trail his own scent back to where he'd started if he needed to. The forest here was dark and foreboding. Ranger could see why it had been given the name, Forbidden. This wasn't the type of place you'd be likely to find a group of teddy bears having a picnic.

Ranger decided to explore this new area thoroughly while he had the chance. He scampered from glade, to stream, to tree clump, sniffing everything and drawing a mental map of the forest. Occasionally, a bird took fright and flew high above the trees, whistling annoyance and alarm at the intruder. Ranger watched them fly around, fascinated as always by the patterns their wings made in the air.

Ranger ran aimlessly and explored for the next couple of hours, completely losing track of the time, or where he was. He'd missed this feeling of freedom. Suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks and sniffed the air. A scent he couldn't quite place. He thought for a moment. Well, this was the Forbidden Forest, so it made sense that there were strange creatures here that he'd never come across before. He padded forwards, cautiously, sniffing the air and peering around.

There, in the clearing in front of him. What were those creatures? They appeared to be a strange cross between a horse and a human. Their bodies were definitely horse like, but their upper torso was definitely human. Centaurs! Ranger tried to remember all that Al had told him about Centaurs. Distrustful of humans, good healers, fascinated by the stars and Divination. He couldn't remember much else. To be honest, he'd lost interest once Al mentioned Divination.

This particular herd of Centaurs appeared to number about a dozen or so, and ranged widely in color, from a snowy white to a deep black. Ranger slid noiselessly under a bush to watch for a while. The Centaurs appeared to be oblivious to Ranger's presence, standing around in small groups, chatting quietly. Until Ranger sneezed.

He hadn't meant to sneeze, in fact he hadn't realised he was going to sneeze until it was too late. One of the larger Centaurs swung around quickly, drawing his bow and taking aim in Ranger's general direction. He was black haired and black bodied with a black beard, and looked like he wouldn't hesitate to shoot. Ranger deliberately rustled some leaves by his paw and crept slowly out from his hiding place so the Centaurs could see him. He kept deliberately close to the ground, his head bowed, eyes uplifted to watch the Centaurs, poised to make a dash for safety if necessary. The dark Centaur frowned, and aimed his bow directly at Ranger. A lighter colored Centaur stepped forward.

"Bane. It's just a pup."

The larger Centaur growled a little under his breath. "It's a wolf Ceryn, and it was stalking us."

Ceryn appeared to consider this, leaning his head on one side, his piercing blue eyes never leaving Ranger. Ranger looked back at him, unblinking and unmoving. Finally, Ceryn shook his head.

"No, Bane, not stalking. Watching us maybe. He's a pup. I doubt he's seen Centaurs before. And he appears to be a pup on his own. No pack. If he was stalking us to hunt, then he'd be with his pack."

Bane grumbled acknowledgement of this. "So why is he in the Forbidden Forest on his own?"

Ceryn shrugged. "I have no idea, but I doubt he means us harm, Bane. Lower the bow."

Bane reluctantly lowered his bow, though he kept a firm grip on it, and watched Ranger carefully. Ranger shook his head and sneezed again. He wasn't sure what had got up his nose to make him sneeze so much, but not sneezing had been making his head hurt. He sneezed again and grumble growled. Ceryn chuckled.

"Come here, pup. I think you got some Mallowsweet up your nose."

Ranger sneezed again and padded over to Ceryn. Ceryn reached down and rubbed his ears. Ranger yipped happily, and then sneezed again and growled in frustration. Bane started laughing.

"Definitely Mallowsweet. Here, pup, try this."

Ranger tilted his head to the left and watched Bane as he bent down and picked a few leaves from a clump of vegetation on the ground. He rubbed the leaves in his fingers and then held them out to Ranger. Ranger padded over, cautiously, and sniffed the leaves. Bane pushed the leaves towards Ranger.

"Eat them. It's just Sage. It should stop the sneezes."

Ranger gently took the proffered leaves from Bane's fingers and chewed them. They didn't taste too bad. He waited for the next sneeze, but miraculously, his sneezes seemed to have faded. He yipped and bounced and licked Bane's fingers, surprising the large Centaur into a sort of smile.

"Ok, Ceryn. He's just a pup. That doesn't explain why a pup is in the Forest without a pack."

Ceryn nodded thoughtfully. "True, but then, there were strange patterns in the stars last night."

Several of the Centaurs nodded agreement. Bane shrugged. "So what do we do with him?"

"Do with him? Nothing, Bane. He's free to do as he chooses, as long as he doesn't hunt Centaurs." Ceryn stared straight at Ranger. "This is Centaur protected land. You must not hunt Centaurs here. Understand?"

Ranger sat up straight and nodded as best he could, yipping agreement. He had no intention in hunting a herd of large equine type creatures armed with bows and arrows. Despite what Professor Sheridan may claim, Ranger was not that stupid.

"Speaking of hunting, we were supposed to be hunting, were we not?" The speaker was a calm looking Centaur with a doleful voice.

"Yes, Ronan, we were, and we are." Bane picked up his quiver of arrows and tested his bow string. "Come. Time to hunt."

Ranger watched as the Centaurs all readied themselves for the hunt ahead. He had no idea what they were hunting, but his curiosity was burning bright. As they turned to leave the clearing, Ranger padded after them, carefully, and at a safe distance. He intended to watch their hunt. Ceryn turned back and looked at him.

"No, pup. This in no hunt for wolves. You go your own way."

Ranger whimpered pathetically and regarded Ceryn with the largest puppy dog eyes he could manage. Bane chuckled.

"I think we have a new hunt member, Ceryn. May as well bring him along. He'll only follow us anyway."

Ceryn sighed. "True. Very well, come along, pup. But if I tell you to stay, you stay."

Remy nodded agreement and padded quickly to Ceryn's side. Ceryn shook his head with a smile. "Bane, take the lead. Ronan, stay back with me and the pup. The rest of you, spread out."


	13. Chapter 12

The Centaurs made their way slowly through the forest, occasionally pausing to examine the undergrowth. One particular spot seemed to excite them. The underbrush seemed to have been flattened in the form of a figure eight, with a pile of dirt and fallen foliage to one side. Ranger sniffed the underbrush. He'd seen something like this before. Roe rings, left by male roe deer in the mating season. This didn't smell like roe deer. Well, it was similar, but there was a strange difference that Ranger couldn't quite work out.

The group made their way deeper into the woods. The light was failing now, and Ranger had to blink a few times to allow his eyes to adjust to the lower light levels. It would soon be dark. He resisted the urge to yawn and concentrated on keeping pace with Ceryn and Ronan. Suddenly, Bane whooped up ahead. Ceryn and Ronan both tensed and raised their bows. Ranger sniffed the air and looked around. There was a small clump of wool like fibres attached to a branch on the well used track, but he could see nothing else of interest. And then all hell broke loose.

The Centaurs all whooped and charged into the dense undergrowth. Ranger followed cautiously, keeping a safe distance behind them. He didn't want them getting confused in the twilight and shooting him by mistake. Excited cries rang out, and Ranger increased his pace to close the distance, his curiosity of their prey overcoming his feelings of self preservation. He almost ran into the back of Bane, who had stopped dead in his tracks.

"Where did it go?"

"I can't see it."

"We lost it?"

Ranger looked around and sniffed the air. There was that smell again. Roe deer with something else. He remembered the clump of wool on the branch. Sheep? That would explain the smell. Roe deer and sheep. A slight movement deep in the underbrush to one side caught his eye. He spun around and stared deep into the dark foliage. Ceryn looked down at Ranger, and then turned to follow his gaze.

"See something, pup?"

Ranger yipped quietly and stalked forwards towards the undergrowth. Bane frowned.

"There's nothing in there. We've lost it."

Ranger ignored him and continued to stalk forwards, his muscles tensed. Most of the Centaurs turned away, peering further down the track, ignoring Ranger. Until a rustle in the trees attracted their attention. They all swivelled to look at where the sound had come from, and were surprised to realise that Ranger was stalking towards the sound. They waited and watched as Ranger closed the distance to the origin of the noise, their bows all held at the ready.

Without warning, the creature took flight, almost barrelling into Ranger in it's desperation to flee. Ranger leapt to the side out of the way, and then gave chase, with the Centaurs close behind. The woolly looking deer was obviously tired from the pursuit and running purely on adrenaline. Ranger quickly caught it, and tapped its hind legs with a side swipe of his right paw, sending the animal rolling into the undergrowth. The Centaurs were past Ranger in a flash and on the creature. Bane dispatched it quickly with a well placed arrow. The animal barked once and then slumped into a small heap.

Ranger checked to make sure the other Centaurs were not about to fire their bows, before padding up to the creature and examining it. It looked like a cross between a roe deer and a sheep. It was the size of a deer, with small antlers on its head, but its fleece was much paler than a roe, and wool like. He looked up at Ceryn with his head tilted to the right inquisitively. Ceryn chuckled and rubbed his ears.

"Good pup. Come, we need to get this back to camp."

-o-o-o-

Ranger yawned and stretched and looked around. He was curled in a small grassy hollow, not far from Ceryn, who was still sleeping. Bane was prodding the remains of last night's fire, making sure the embers were extinguished. Ronan was chewing thoughtfully on a piece of the sheep-deer cross. Ranger had never tasted anything quite like it before. The animal really had been a cross between a roe deer and a sheep. He'd heard rumors of such things, but he'd never actually believed they existed. It hadn't tasted at all bad though. Venison with a slight flavor of lamb. Ranger stretched again as the Centaurs all woke and made ready to leave their camp. Ceryn rubbed his ears and Ranger yipped and licked his fingers. Bane chuckled.

"Tell me we're not adopting a wolf pup, Ceryn." Bane threw a small piece of leftover meat in Ranger's direction. Ranger leapt in the air and caught it easily, before landing and chewing on it contentedly. "Although, he does seem to have the makings to be a good hunter."

It was Ceryn's turn to chuckle. "Aye, he does, But he's a pup. He needs to return to his own pack. Wherever they may be." Ceryn looked meaningfully at Ranger, who harrumphed and tried to look indignant. When that had no effect, he licked Ceryn's hand, yipped at Bane, and padded off in the opposite direction to the centaurs.

"Hey, pup."

Ranger turned round and looked questioningly at Bane, his head tilted on one side.

"Anytime you want to run with us, you'll be welcome. Just make sure we know it's you so we don't shoot you by mistake."

Ranger yipped happily and howled a little. Bane nodded his approval.

"That would do it. See you later, pup. Travel well."

-o-o-o-

Ranger spent the rest of the morning exploring other areas of the forest. Some he found full of strange wildlife, and made a mental note to come back and explore more later. Other parts of the forest sent shivers down his spine, especially one area that seemed to be inhabited by rather large spiders. Ranger had never been over fond of spiders, and decided to avoid that area in the future. He swam in the lake for a little while, playfully trying to catch some trout. There were other strange looking creatures here too, and Ranger gave them a wide berth. He was a good swimmer for a wolf, but then wolves aren't renowned for their aquatic skills, so he wasn't about to push his luck.

After shaking himself vigorously, he set off running again, to dry out. This time he headed up the hillside at the other side of the lake. He knew from seeing maps of Hogwarts and the grounds, that this was considered to be out of bounds, but since he had no intention of going back, it hardly seemed to matter. Part way up he found a rocky ledge, and settled down in the Autumn sunshine to dry off properly and get warm.

He woke with a start and looked around, confused. Oh, that's right. He was in wolf form, halfway up a hillside, with no idea what he was going to do next. He thought hard for a moment. Going home wasn't an option, as Al hadn't returned yet. Remus was still away as well. Fitz wouldn't be too happy if Remy turned up on his doorstep, and he was pretty sure, as an ex Hogwarts Professor, Slugger wouldn't be overjoyed to see him under these circumstances either. That just left returning to the school and facing the music. Ranger thought harder. There had to be another option. But he couldn't think of anything else, and all this thinking was making his head hurt. He stretched and took a deep lungful of the clean, crisp, late afternoon air, before padding somewhat reluctantly back down the hillside and towards Hogwarts school.

He stuck to the well worn paths through the forest this time, resisting the temptation to explore, and made swift progress. As he neared the school, he paused and sniffed the air. A scent he recognised, somewhere up ahead. Not a natural forest smell. It was more a smell of ... Ranger groaned and took a deep breath, before transforming back into Remy. He walked slowly into the clearing. Dumbledore was seated on a large boulder in the centre, with his back to Remy, staring off into the trees.

"Ah, there you are, Remy. I do enjoy late sunny afternoons out here. So peaceful don't you think?"

Remy shrugged, then realised that Dumbledore still had his back to him, making the shrug somewhat pointless. "Um. Yeah. Peaceful."

"And are you feeling better after your ... explorations?" Dumbledore turned to face Remy, favoring him with a genuinely warm smile.

Remy frowned, a little confused. He'd expected to get yelled at, at the very least. "Um. Yes thanks, Professor."

Dumbledore nodded. "Good, good. Well, shall we head back to the school? I would prefer to be indoors before it gets dark, and I find it gets dark so quickly at this time of year."

Remy nodded, still unsure how much trouble he was in, and took his place alongside Dumbledore for the short walk back to the school. Dumbledore chatted amiably to Remy all the way back, pointing out various trees and plants, and even naming some of the birds that had started their evening chorus. Remy was too busy worrying about what was going to happen to him to listen properly.

The entrance to the school was deserted, and Remy was quite glad there wasn't a crowd to greet them and hurl derision at him. He trailed down the corridor behind Dumbledore, and followed him into his office.

"Take a seat, Remy. Are you hungry?"

Remy shook his head and sat down quietly, his head hung slightly. Dumbledore frowned slightly, but took a seat opposite Remy and calmly poured a cup of tea, adding a little milk and a spoon of sugar. "I'm told sugar is bad for me, but at my age, I believe I should be allowed the odd pleasure in life. Ah, I believe we have company."

Remy could hear people heading their way, or rather he could hear low chattering and the odd grumble. He took a calming breath as several members of staff came bustling into Dumbledore's office. Well, Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout bustled. Madame Hooch strode in purposefully, while Argus Filch, the grumpy school caretaker, sort of wheezed and shuffled in. Professor Snape brought up the rear, drifting in with an air of annoyance at having his weekend disturbed. None of them looked particularly cheerful, and Remy couldn't help thinking that this was probably the strangest lynch mob he'd ever seen.

"Ah, Logan, are you ok?" Professor Sprout at least looked concerned for his welfare. He nodded and managed a small smile in her direction. She frowned a little, but was distracted by Dumbledore's offer of tea. Pretty soon, everyone had taken a cup of tea and found themselves a seat, apart from Filch who chose to lean on a book case.

"Are we all here?" Dumbledore looked around and nodded. "Good, good. Well, on to business. Now Remy, various ... accusations ... have been made during your ... absence."

Remy frowned. "What did I do this time?"

Dumbledore noted the defensive tone in his voice and smiled brightly at him. "Oh, I'm not saying you did anything at all, Remy. It's just, several incidents have occurred and various individuals are claiming them to be of your doing. I'd like to get to the bottom of the problem, if we could."

Remy shrugged. "Whatever. I didn't do nothing."

Filch took a step forwards. "He shaved my cat!"

Remy blinked, genuinely taken aback. "I did what?"

"Shaved my cat. Troublemaker this one. Professor Sheridan says so. He can't be allowed to shave my cat."

"Ohh, well if Sheridan says so, it must be true." Remy shook his head.

Dumbledore smiled patiently. "Remy. Please, let Mr Filch speak." Remy sank back in his chair. "Carry on, Argus."

Filch huffed and wheezed and Remy watched the veins on his neck dance. "Yes, well, like I said, he shaved Mrs Norris. Can't let that kind of thing happen. Who knows what he'd do next. She's in a terrible state, my poor sweet. This happened once before you know. She was in shock for weeks. That Black boy, caused her no end of trauma. He was a wrong 'un too. Just look what happened to him." He sank back against the book case, apparently worn out by the effort of speaking, his jowls quivering.

Remy was having a hard time imagining how Mrs Norris could be 'in a terrible state'. She was usually in as foul a mood as Filch himself. Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. "I'm sure she'll recover quickly, Argus. She seemed fine after a day or so last time, if my memory serves." He swung around to face Professor Sprout. "Pomona?"

The normally cheerful Professor Sprout tucked a strand of flyaway grey hair back under her battered hat and absentmindedly batted at a piece of dirt on her robes. "Ah. Well. Yes. It's just ... well I'm not entirely sure Headmaster." Dumbledore merely smiled encouragingly at her and waited patiently. She took a breath. "Well, it's just, there was an attack on the Whomping Willow tree, and ..." She looked around, presumably for support or reassurance, but when none was forthcoming, she sighed and continued. "Well, a couple of students said it was Remy that tried to set it on fire." She sank back in her chair, refusing to look in Remy's direction.

Remy was stunned. Shaved a cat and set fire to a tree? He hadn't done either of those things. What the hell else was he going to be accused of?

Dumbledore turned to Professor Snape. "Severus?"

Snape stretched languidly in his chair. "Someone attempted to blow up the potions lab, and Remy's name was mentioned as a possible culprit."

Dumbledore nodded and stroked his beard. "Rolanda?"

Madam Hooch harrumphed slightly. "Three reports of fights, all with Remy's name mentioned."

"Three?" queried Dumbledore.

She nodded. "Yes, three. One in the Middle Courtyard, one out by the Quidditch pitch, and one in the Armor gallery. Three."

"Anything else?" Dumbledore looked around at his staff members expectantly, but they all shrugged or shook their heads, apart from Filch who was still muttering angrily about his cat. He turned to Remy and smiled encouragingly at him. "So, Remy, have you got anything to say?"

Remy just shook his head. "What's the point. You've all made your minds up. I'm either stupid or a troublemaker or both. Whatever. You said this place was different to other schools. Well it ain't. It's just the same. Anything goes wrong, blame Remy. Yeah yeah, yadda yadda. Well, I don't need it. I'm outta here."

He stood up to leave, but Dumbledore raised his hands. "Please, Remy, sit down. I would like to hear your side of things. And no one has said you are stupid."

Remy snorted and muttered, "Talk to Sheridan, he'll soon put you right."

"Logan! I'm sure Professor Sheridan has said no such thing." Professor McGonagall sounded highly indignant that Remy could accuse a teacher of such a thing.

Remy spun round quickly and glared at her. "Yeah? Well you oughta sit in on his class then. Says it just about every time he sees me. I don't need that kinda crap. Got it every school I ever been to, and I ain't sticking around to hear it all over again."

"Remy. Please, I would like to hear your side of things, just for my own peace of mind. If you still wish to leave after that, well, I'm sure I can make whatever arrangements are necessary." Dumbledore smiled calmly at Remy, who paused, thought for a moment, and then realised that, despite his words, he really didn't know where else he was going to go right now. He thought for a moment, took a breath, and then turned to face Dumbledore. Despite the anger burning inside him, Remy felt calmer just looking at the man. It was weird. Usually only Al had this kind of effect on him. He took a long, slow breath and thought for a moment.

"When am I supposed to have done all this stuff?"

Dumbledore smiled encouragingly. "On the Friday that you ... disappeared from the Hospital Wing."

"All on the same day?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, Remy."

"What time frame?"

Snape frowned. "Time frame?"

Remy grinned lopsided at him. "Yeah. I mean, there must have been a time when you knew I was in the Hospital Wing, and a time when you knew I wasn't in the school. Presumably I did all this stuff in that time frame."

Snape nodded with a glint in his eye, suddenly realising what Remy meant. "Ah, yes. Headmaster?"

Dumbledore rustled some papers on his desk. "Well Professor McGonagall and myself saw you in the hospital wing, and when Madame Pomfrey returned to check on you 40 minutes later, you were gone. So I would assume that is your time frame."

Remy nodded. "Damn, I'm good aren't I?"

Professor McGonagall frowned. "Good? Whatever do you mean?"

Remy spun and flashed one of his cheekiest grins at her. "Well in the space of 40 minutes I got dressed, crept out of the hospital wing, grabbed Mrs Norris and shaved her ... how the hell do you shave a cat anyway? I mean, it's not like they're gonna sit still and let you do that. They're going to scratch you to death." Remy's brow furrowed as he considered this.

Snape smiled. "Well, you could stun the cat first, then shave it."

Remy grinned at him, his eyes shining brightly. "Oh, yeah. See, that would work. Stun it first. Cool."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Well, now we've cleared that mystery up, please continue, Remy."

"Oh, yeah. Right. Well, ok, I shaved the cat, after stunning her that is. Hmmm." Remy frowned in thought again. "How would you know how long to stun the cat for? I mean, you don't want the cat to wake up half way through shaving it. You'd get shredded."

Dumbledore watched Remy wrestle with the problem of stunning the cat with barely concealed amusement.

"I mean, there'd have to be 2 of you really, to be safe. One to shave it, and one to make sure it stayed stunned. Unless … unless you'd been practising. But I mean, you couldn't really practise stunning the cat, someone would notice, so … unless you found something a similar size … like … oh! The squirrels. Damn, that's quite clever really. Ok, so I shaved the cat, then I headed down to the Whomping Willow tree and tried to set fire to it."

He frowned again. "Although, I have no idea why the hell I'd want to set fire to it. It never did me any harm. Well apart from last week, when it nearly knocked my head off, but that was my own fault for trying to retrieve a second years homework after Laurence threw it under there. Anyway, tried to set fire to the tree, then ran over to the Quidditch pitch. Got in a fight with someone. Ran back to the school. Had another fight in the courtyard. Headed to the potions lab, and tried to blow it up."

He stopped and turned to face Snape. "Seriously? I only tried? I didn't succeed? I mean, we both know I can blow holes in your walls if I don't get the quantities right. I'm pretty sure I could make some major dents in the place if I tried hard enough." Snape shrugged, somewhat noncommittally, but the grin that was playing around his lips was hard to disguise. Remy shrugged. "Ok, anything else? Oh, yeah. Headed out of the school, one more fight on the way, and legged it into the forest. All in 40 minutes. And none of you saw a damn thing. Damn, but I'm good!"

He stood looking around at the staff. Madam Hooch had an almost triumphant look on her face, as though Remy had just said what she'd been thinking. Professor Sprout looked both relieved and pleased at the same time. Professor McGonagall looked stunned, while Argus Filch had an expression of deep thought. Or constipation. Remy wasn't entirely sure which. Professor Snape's expression was always hard to read, but he certainly didn't look angry. Dumbledore was smiling broadly.

"Excellent, Remy. It would indeed be highly improbable that you managed all these strange feats in such a short time and with no witnesses to speak of. Any other comments?" He looked around the room, but all he got were smiles and a few shakes of the head. "Very well, then I think we can safely assume that Remy was not responsible for any of these incidents."

"Indeed, Headmaster," drawled Snape. "Not that it ever was likely. He could have caused much more damage to the lab had he tried, as he has already ably demonstrated during class."

Remy grinned, a little sheepishly. "Yeah, well I didn't mean to blow that hole in the wall. I just got my quantities mixed up."

Snape snorted, but made no attempt to contradict Remy.

Filch suddenly managed to get his voice to work in harmony with his jaw, which had been moving wordlessly for the last few minutes. "But, he shaved Mrs Norris!"

Dumbledore smiled patiently at Filch. "No, Argus. I don't believe that is something Remy would do. Besides, until Severus intervened, I truly believe Remy had no idea how to shave a cat without being scratched, and I can assure you, he has no scratch marks on him."

"Well, someone shaved her. And they said ... well ... they said it was him."

"They?" Dumbledore looked interested. "There were witnesses to the shaving incident?"

Filch squirmed almost imperceptibly. "Well, no, they never said they saw him do it. They just said it was him."

Remy tilted his head to the right. "Any chance Fishman was one of them."

Filch started a little guiltily, but remained tight lipped, even when Dumbledore glared at him. "Couldn't say."

Remy took that as a 'Yes', and nodded his head, knowingly. "Ah, well you see, the thing about Laurence is, you can always tell when he's lieing."

Filch looked surprised. "How?"

Remy grinned. "Easy. His lips move."

Behind him, Madame Hooch and Professor Sprout both had to stifle a laugh. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. Snape merely shook his head with an almost disapproving look on his face. Professor McGonagall finally managed to find her voice.

"Logan! Really. You shouldn't talk about your fellow pupils that way." Her tone was much softer than it had been earlier, and Remy thought he spotted a slight smile cross her face, briefly. He shrugged and grinned.

Dumbledore shuffled his papers once more. "Very well. I believe we have the salient facts now. Minerva, could you remain behind please? Thank you everyone."

The others drifted out, with Filch still muttering unhappily about Mrs Norris. McGonagall took a seat next to Dumbledore's desk, and Remy sat back down in his chair. Dumbledore smiled at him.

"Well, now we've proved your innocence, do you still want to leave, Remy?"

Remy scrunched his face in thought. "Dunno. I mean, I'm glad you know I didn't do that stuff, but, I figured you'd be kicking me out anyway. Fighting too much." He stared straight at McGonagall.

"Well, I've only had cause to give you two detentions for fighting so far, and you did start both fights.

Remy shook his head and laughed. "Yeah. Right."

She glared at him, sternly. "Well, you did."

"Yeah. Ok, I did. But do you think I can get a definition of 'starting a fight'? 'Cos the first time, I threw the first punch, and that was starting a fight, and the second time, I threw the first insult, and that was starting the fight."

"Both valid reasons."

He shrugged. "So, the first fight, Laurence threw the first insult, but I started the fight, and the second time Laurence threw the first punch, but I started the fight. Doesn't quite add up to me."

She glanced at Dumbledore, looking a little taken aback. He kept his face completely impassive, leaning back to watch.

"Why didn't you mention this at the time?"

He shrugged again. "What's the point. You'd already made your mind up. I'm just a troublemaker. And a stupid one at that."

McGonagall studied him carefully. "Did Professor Sheridan really call you stupid?"

Remy sighed and nodded. "Yep. Said I was stupid and a waste of space and no one would ever teach me anything."

McGonagall frowned. "Well, I'm sure that's not an opinion shared by anyone else here."

Remy shrugged. "Don't much care if it is or it isn't. Not the first time someone's told me that, but I'm done believing it. I know I'm not stupid. Well, not at everything anyway. And definitely not at Dark Arts. The guy just hates my guts. And I'd hate his, if he had any."

"Logan!" McGonagall's tone was disapproving, but Remy was past caring.

"He's allowed to call me stupid, but I'm not allowed to say anything back?"

Dumbledore stepped in, before McGonagall could reply. "Why exactly did he say you were stupid Remy? Was it a particular assignment? Perhaps you simply didn't give the answer he was expecting."

Remy shrugged. "Well that's kinda true I guess. It was in class. He asked the best way to deal with an Irish Pixie."

"And what did you say?"

"I said, freeze it and slam it in a cage. He said it was such a stupid answer, he didn't even know where to start."

Dumbledore and McGonagall exchanged worried looks.

"He added it to our homework assignment. I gave him the same answer, with references from 5 different books from the library. He ripped my assignment up. Said I was stupid for repeating my earlier error, and I hadn't learned anything. But I know it's the right answer. Five books can't be wrong, right?"

He looked somewhat pleadingly at Dumbledore, who smiled reassuringly. "I would say that freezing an Irish Pixie was the best way to deal with it, Remy."

Remy nodded, happy, and relieved, that someone finally agreed with him.

MacGonagall frowned a little. "So, what did Professor Sheridan say was the right answer, Remy?"

Remy grinned. "Oh, he reckons you should tickle them into submission." He chuckled. "I was tempted to get someone to send me one, just so I could let it loose in his class and then watch him try to tickle it. Hell, I could probably sell tickets to that. Especially the moment when he realises that Irish Pixes aren't ticklish."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Well, I'm glad you resisted that temptation, Remy."

Remy grinned sheepishly. "Actually, I couldn't think of anyone to ask. Pretty sure my Uncle wouldn't be a part of that."

Dumbledore smiled. "Or he'd send you a dragon by mistake."

Remy laughed. "That would be ok. I could give it to Charlie."

There was a knock on the door, and Madam Pomfrey hurried in. "Ah. Remy. How are you feeling? Is your head still hurting?" She paused her headlong rush towards Remy just long enough to acknowledge Dumbledore and McGonagall, before descending on Remy and checking his eyes carefully. "Hmm, well your eyes are clear, although you look tired."

Dumbledore nodded agreement. "He has been stiffling a number of yawns in the last few minutes. It would probably be best if Remy was to get some sleep. Perhaps in the Hospital Wing? We can continue this conversation in the morning."

Remy looked a little confused. "You're not kicking me out?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "Heavens, no, Remy. Now, go get some sleep."


	14. Chapter 13

Remy trailed quietly after Madam Pomfrey towards the hospital wing. He was really feeling tired now, and just wanted to get some sleep. They passed very few students on their way, and luckily, no-one that Remy really knew, which meant he didn't have to start answering questions. Or avoiding them. He yawned hugely as he entered the ward area, veering towards the bed he'd been in last as he spied his things were still on the bed.

"Remy!"

Remy spun around in surprise. "Charlie? What are you doing here?"

Charlie grinned a little sheepishly. "Bit of an accident at Quidditch practise. I'm fine though. No real reason for me to be here." He looked meaningfully at Madam Pomfrey, who merely harrumphed.

"You banged your head, Mr Weasley. I prefer to keep an eye on any students with head injures. And, yes, that includes you, Mr Logan." Remy shuffled his feet, a little embarrassed, but when he sneaked a peek, she was smiling at him. "Now, into bed, the pair of you. I'll be back to check on you in a few minutes."

Remy changed into his shorts and t-shirt pyjamas as Charlie rummaged in the bedside cabinet.

"Do you always wear those dog tags, Remy?"

Remy blinked, a little surprised that Charlie had noticed him tuck them under his top. "Um, yeah. My dad gave me them."

"Can I see?"

Remy shrugged and tugged his tags free so Charlie could take a look. They looked just like standard oval dog tags, silver colored with his name etched on one and a japanese symbol on the other. He wasn't about to tell Charlie that the name changed when he morphed, or that the symbol meant wolf.

"They're pretty cool. So, you're ok, Remy? I mean, you're not hurt or anything?"

"Nah, I'm ok thanks, Charlie. Just tired."

"Are you in trouble for going missing? I mean, we were all worried about you."

"You were? Really? Well, I'm ok, honest. And, yeah, I think I'm in trouble, but Dumbledore said he's not kicking me out."

"Good." Charlie sounded genuinely pleased to hear that.

Remy clambered into bed and yawned again.

"Wow, Remy, I'm surprised your jaw doesn't dislocate, yawning like that."

Remy grinned. "Told ya I was tired."

"Want a sweet?" Charlie shoved an opened white paper bag his way. Remy shook his head, but peered into the bag anyway.

"Woah. Are those orange fizz bombs?" He looked at Charlie incredulously, his eyes shining brightly. Charlie grinned as Remy took a sweet and popped it in his mouth.

"Yeah. Dad sent them. Said they were your favorites. I didn't even know you knew my parents."

Remy grinned a little sheepishly as he sucked the sweet. "Well, I wouldn't say I know them exactly. I've met them a couple of times. Your dad's really nice, always offers me a fizz bomb every time I see him. Your mum's nice too, even if she does keep trying to feed me past the point of bursting."

Charlie laughed. "Sounds like mum. I wrote them Friday when you went missing, and I mentioned you'd gone and we were all worried, but Dumbledore was refusing to send out a search party. Mum replied the next morning, which is strange for her to reply so fast. She said she was worried about you too, 'cos she knew you, but that Dumbledore knew what he was doing, and you'd be back. She also said me and Bill ought to be keeping a better eye on you and looking out for you and stuff. And dad sent the fizz bombs, for when you got back."

Remy beamed as the fizz bomb exploded. "I'll have to write and thank him."

Madame Pomfrey bustled in. "Ok, you two, that's quite enough chatter. Get some sleep."

Both boys grumbled quietly, but obediently lay down. Madame Pomfrey tucked them both in gently, checking Remy's forehead and frowning slightly. "Headache?"

Remy mumbled, "A bit."

"Hmm, your head feels a little warm. Try and sleep. Hopefully you'll feel better in the morning."

Remy mumbled and curled up on his side, yawning and closing his eyes.

-o-o-o-

Remy woke with a start, the nightmare images still burning in his brain. He gasped for breath, forcing himself to calm his breathing. He looked sideways, to see if he'd woken Charlie, but Charlie was snoring obliviously. He sighed, relieved, and snuck out of bed quietly and over to the window. He peered out, at the bright twinkling stars and the half moon. He sat quietly for a while, until his heart rate returned to normal and the images faded. He yawned. He was so tired, all he wanted to do was sleep. He slid quietly back into bed and curled up, hoping the nightmares wouldn't return.

But they did.

And this time, they were worse. He woke and sat bolt upright in bed, panting hard. He hated nightmares.

"You ok, Remy?"

Charlie sounded tired and concerned.

"I'm fine thanks, Charlie. Didn't mean to wake ya. Go back to sleep."

Remy slid out of bed and padded over to the window, peering out at the night time landscape. The trees always looked more menacing at night time, their branches seeming to be more gnarled and twisted than usual, as though they were reaching up to try and pull the stars from the sky.

"Can't sleep?"

"I'm fine, Charlie. Go back to sleep."

Charlie stretched and sat up in bed. "No, you're not fine. Bad dreams?"

Remy nodded. "Yeah. Bad dreams. I'm fine, Go back to sleep."

"Bad dreams? Or nightmares? 'Cause nightmares are worse."

Remy glared at Charlie. "Just go to sleep, will you."

Charlie shook his head. "Nightmares are never good. And you need some sleep."

Remy sighed. "Tell me something I don't know."

Charlie thought for a moment. "What do you do at home if you have a nightmare?"

Remy shrugged. "Don't sleep. That works. Can't have a nightmare if you don't sleep."

"No. I mean seriously, Remy. I mean, you can't not sleep all the time?"

Remy shrugged again. "Works for me."

Charlie sighed. "Ok, well what do you do if you have a nightmare and you're so tired, you have to sleep?"

Remy thought for a moment. "Not had that happen too many times. If it's a really bad nightmare, sometimes I'll go get a hug from my dad." Remy hung his head, slightly embarrassed to be admitting such a thing.

Charlie just nodded. "Hugs can be good. Look, try and get some sleep, Remy. Maybe you'll sleep this time."

Remy sighed and headed back to bed. "Didn't work last time."

Charlie frowned. "This isn't your first nightmare tonight?"

Remy shook his head. "Nope. Second. I didn't wake you last time though."

"I could go get Madame Pomfrey. She might know what to do."

"Nah. She's probably sleeping. No need for everyone to be awake."

Charlie pondered. "Well, ok, just lie down."

Remy sighed, unconvinced, but slid back into bed and curled up on his side, as usual. Charlie watched him for a little while, realising that Remy was just laying still, making no attempt to sleep. Well, his mum had told him to look out for Remy and take care of him, so that's what he was going to do. He slipped out of his own bed and into Remy's. Remy jumped, a little startled.

"What the hell, Charlie?"

Charlie wrapped one arm over the younger boy. "Go to sleep, Remy. You're safe here. Madame Pomfrey isn't about to let anyone past her, and if she does, I'm here to look after you. Now, go to sleep."

Remy blinked. He'd never heard Charlie sound so stern and determined. But he had to admit, Charlie being so close did make him feel safe. He nodded tiredly and settled down, letting the waves of sleep wash over him.

-o-o-o-

Madame Pomfrey bustled into the room, and stopped dead in her tracks. Remy peeked one eye open, and was worried for a moment that she was going to yell at them, but she just smiled.

"Sleep well?"

Remy grinned and nodded. "Eventually. Thanks to Charlie."

Charlie yawned and stretched. "Wha? Huh? Oh. Er. Madame Pomfrey. I can explain, er..." He unwrapped his arm from Remy and slid backwards in the bed so fast, he actually fell out. "Ow."

"I was having trouble sleeping. Nightmares." explained Remy, before peering over the side of the bed at Charlie, who was scrabbling around on the floor, as though he couldn't decide which bed to try and get back into. "You ok down there? Charlie thought I looked like I needed a hug. I guess we both fell asleep."

Madame Pomfrey tried desperately to hide the smile on her face. "And did you both sleep well?"

Remy shrugged. "Guess we must have. Well I did anyway."

Charlie had finally managed to scramble back into his own bed. "Er, yes thanks, Madame Pomfrey."

She smiled benevolently at them both. "Good. You both needed the sleep, and you are looking much brighter today. I'll organise breakfast for you both, then one last check before I release from my care, Mr Weasley. Mr Logan, the Headmaster would like to see you after breakfast." She saw the look on Remy's face and added quickly, "Don't worry. You'll be fine, but there are certain issues that need to be addressed. Now, I'll go get your breakfast while the pair of you get dressed. Oh, and Remy, please brush your teeth. I'm pretty sure you forgot to last night."

As she left the room, Charlie grinned at Remy. "I swear, she fusses as much as mum."

Neither boy saw the smile on her face as she walked down the corridor.


	15. Chapter 14

Remy trailed after Dumbledore, wondering where the hell they were going. He followed the Headmaster out of the side door, round a ruined doorway and down a steep banking. Remy could see a small circular building below him, with a front garden that seemed to be full of pumpkins. No flowers, just pumpkins. Remy shrugged and hurried to catch up to Dumbledore, who was waiting patiently for him by the front door. Dumbledore knocked on the door.

The door was opened by a huge man. A really huge man. Remy thought he was probably twice the height of Dumbledore and much wider. He even made Fitz look small. He had a long mane of shaggy black hair and a beard that covered most of his face. His dark eyes twinkled as he saw Dumbledore.

"Headmaster! What a surprise. Not like you to be coming down here on a Sunday morning. Come in. Come in."

"Thank you, Hagrid." Dumbledore motioned Remy into the house. Remy stepped inside and looked around curiously. There was a lot of furniture for what seemed to be a small house, and most of it was the same size as it's owner. Huge. "This is Remy. Remy, this is Hagrid, our gamekeeper."

Remy shook the proffered dustbin lid sized hand that Hagrid thrust at him. Hagrid pumped his arm vigorously until Remy was convinced his arm was going to detach itself from his body. "Pleased to meet you, Remy. Tea, Headmaster?" Hagrid peered around. "I'm sure the kettle is here, somewhere."

Dumbledore smiled politely and shook his head. "Thank you, no Hagrid. I've just finished breakfast."

Remy rubbed his hand gently.

"Sorry about that. Don't know me own strength sometimes." Hagrid smiled apologetically, and Remy found himself warming to the big man.

Remy suddenly spotted a huge black dog, apparently sleeping in a corner. Well, in what would have been a corner had the room been square. Hagrid followed his gaze. "That's Fang. Harmless he is. More likely to lick yer to death than anything else. Gallopin' Gorgons, that reminds me, haven't fed Fang yet today."

Hagrid searched through the seemingly unending pockets of his huge moleskin coat and pulled out a dog bowl and some slightly mouldy dog biscuits. He placed the biscuits in the bowl and put it down near the sleeping dog. "So, what can I do fer yeh, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore settled on a chair and stroked his beard. "Actually, Hagrid, I was rather hoping you could help me with a slight problem we seem to have." He glanced at Remy as he spoke, and Remy shifted a little uncomfortably. He wasn't sure where this was going, but he was beginning to think it couldn't be anywhere good.

Hagrid glanced at Remy. "New student? Not sure I've seen yeh around before."

Dumbeldore smiled thoughtfully. "Yes, Hagrid, Remy is new here. Third year Gryffindor. He should have joined us before, but there were ... extenuating circumstances. And these circumstances are still proving somewhat problematic. I blame myself. I was forewarned, but I'm afraid I still managed to underestimate the situation."

Hagrid was nodding as though he understood exactly what Dumbledore was saying, although from the blank expression on his face, Remy wasn't sure he truly did. "So what can I do?"

Dumbledore looked directly at Remy. "I was hoping you could help us Hagrid. If Remy is prepared to trust you that is. I have to tell you Remy, I've always found Hagrid to be extremely loyal and reliable. I'm sure your secret will be safe with him, and it would give you the opportunity to express yourself fully."

Remy frowned, puzzled, unsure what Dumbledore was saying. Dumbeldore waited patiently. Hagrid just looked from one to the other, looking just as puzzled as Remy. Fang yawned, stretched and padded over to Hagrid, settling down beside him with his head on Hagrid's lap. Dumbledore finally took pity on Remy.

"I was rather hoping that Hagrid would allow you to use his house as a base for your ... explorations. That way you can run free when you feel the need, without worrying everyone needlessly."

Remy tilted his head to the right, considering this. He never meant to worry anyone, but sometimes he just needed to run. If Hagrid knew when he'd morphed and gone for a run, then at least if he was missing from the school, Dumbledore would be able to check with Hagrid before sending out a search party. It made perfect sense in a way. But it meant telling Hagrid he was an Animorph.

Remy looked questioningly at Dumbledore, who merely smiled. "I trust Hagrid completely, but this is your choice, Remy."

Remy looked at Hagrid, who was now rubbing Fang's ears softly. He nodded. "Makes sense. Never meant to worry anyone."

Dumbledore smiled benevolently. "I know, Remy. But people were worried about you."

Remy hung his head. "Sorry."

Dumbledore reached out, placed the tip of one finger under Remy's chin, and gently tilted Remy's head back up. "This is your choice, Remy. If you're not comfortable with this idea, we'll think of another way."

Remy took a deep breath. "No, it's ok. This way works for me." He turned to face Hagrid, who was still looking puzzled. He took a calming breath. "I'm an Animorph."

Hagrid screwed his face up in complete bewilderment. "Animorph? But Animorphs don't do magic. I mean ter say, you're a ... but yer can't be ... I mean ..." He looked to Dumbledore for an explanation.

Dumbeldore nodded. "It's true, Hagrid. Remy really is an Animorph. And yes, that was my initial response as well. Animorphs don't do magic. But Remy has proved me wrong ... with a little help. His situation is ... unique."

Remy grinned. Unique was one way to describe Alastor Mad-Eye Moody.

Hagrid scratched his beard thoughtfully. "Hmm, well now, don't think I've ever actually met an Animorph before. What exactly do yer morph inter?"

Remy grinned a little sheepishly. "I'm a wolf." He stood up and morphed into Ranger.

Hagrid's eyes widened as he watched. "Woah. Now that's a neat trick. Good boy, Fang. No growling. It's just Remy yer daft dog."

"He prefers a different name in wolf form, I believe." Ranger edged closer to Dumbledore and tilted his head back to reveal his dog tags. Dumbledore reached down and examined the tags. "Ah, yes. Ranger. I take it that changes to 'Remy' when you morph back."

Ranger nodded and yipped in confirmation. Fang seemed to take the yip as an invitation to play. He gave a loud, booming bark, and leaped on Ranger, who yelped and rolled to one side.

"Fang! Back! Back!" Hagrid reached for Fang and tugged on his collar, but Fang paid him no attention. Instead he continued to tussle with the wolf pup, giving him long slobbery licks on the face. Hagrid checked Ranger quickly and was relieved to find that far from trying to escape from Fang, he was actually playing along with the overgrown boarhound, rolling and mewling contentedly.

Dumbledore smiled. "Seems Ranger has made a friend."

"Aye. Looks that way." Hagrid sat back down. "Come ere!"

Ranger twisted and wriggled from under Fang, darting over to Hagrid and sitting quietly in front of him. Fang padded after him and settled on the floor at Hagird's feet, panting slightly from his exertions. Hagrid chuckled and rubbed Ranger's ears.

"Just a pup, ain't yer?"

Ranger yipped agreement and settled down next to Fang.

"Well, yer always welcome here Ranger ... or Remy ... either way, if it helps, come here whenever yer want and do yer thing. I'll make sure no one worries about yer."

"Thank you, Hagrid. Perhaps you could arrange some kind of signal with Remy, in case you're busy when he feels the need to morph. And, Remy ... I mean, Ranger ... this does not give you carte blanche to miss classes. Is that understood?"

Ranger looked at Dumbledore with the largest puppy dog eyes he could manage and nodded enthusiastically.

Hagrid chuckled. "Looks like he's been practising that innocent look."

Dumbledore smiled and rubbed his temples. "I'm afraid you're probably right, Hagrid, although I have a feeling it doesn't work very often. And he should know it's unlikely to work on me either."

Ranger harrumphed and laid back down.

-o-o-o-

Remy ate lunch in Dumbeldore's office. Well, he picked at his lunch anyway. He managed a chicken sandwich and a glass of milk, but he really wasn't hungry. True, he could now transform whenever he wanted, within reason, but he also had a full week of detentions to look forward to as a result of being out of bounds. At least they'd be detentions set by Dumbledore, not Sheridan. All the detentions he'd acquired thanks to Sheridan were now 'under review'. Remy wasn't entirely sure what that meant, but he'd decided not to worry about it until he had to.

"Perhaps I should have done this when you first arrived, but I'd like you to do a test for me, Remy."

Remy groaned, and just about managed to resist the temptation to bang his head on the desk as Dumbledore put paper, quill and ink in front of him. He sighed and rubbed his head.

"Headache?" Dumbledore looked concerned.

Remy shook his head. "No. Not really. I mean, it's not a headache, but all this learning and reading stuff makes my head hurt, if that makes sense."

Dumbledore smiled reassuringly. "Yes, Remy, it makes perfect sense. You need to lift your head out of your books sometimes and just enjoy life."

Remy looked unconvinced. "Yeah, but I have to keep trying to catch up and keep up and it's hard with some of these kids. Like Matt or Gideon, or even Rob, they just read books and know stuff. They're like geniuses compared to me. "

Dumbledore thought for a moment, trying to find the right words. "Remy, you're a bright boy. Perhaps you should stop trying to be as good as everyone else and just be yourself." Remy's frown deepened. "Really, Remy, trust me. It's not beyond you. You're just coming at this from a different perspective to your classmates. They've had 2 years of schooling here. They've grown accustomed to what is expected of them. Some of them are extremely good at reading books and learning the words. You, however, have had 2 years of a far more 'hands on' approach to magic. While you may not know the details of the theory, I have no doubt that you would excel in a practical exam."

Remy grinned. Al's methods of teaching were certainly more practical than theoretical. Dumbledore's eyes gleamed as he watched Remy digest that information. "Just try your best, Remy. If there are any questions you don't understand, just leave them and move on to the next one. Ok?"

Remy nodded and got to work, scrunching his face in thought as he read the questions. Dark Arts. Well, at least it was a subject he liked, and not Transfiguration.

-o-o-o-

At dinner time, Remy trailed along towards the dining hall behind Dumbledore, hoping he could sneak in unnoticed. Just short of the dining hall, Dumbledore stepped to one side to speak with Professor McGonagall, smiling at Remy and waving him towards the hall with a slight motion of one hand. Remy entered the room slowly and made for his usual spot on the table, but he didn't get far.

"Remy!"

Remy suddenly found himself in the grasp of a huge bear hug from Charlie Weasley's big brother, Bill. He was so stunned, he didn't even attempt to wriggle free.

"Are you ok?"

Remy managed to mutter a muffled response. "Yeah, I'm fine thanks."

"We were worried about you."

"Sorry."

"Let him up for air, Bill." Mac grinned at Remy and checked him carefully as Bill released him. "He looks ok. A bit squished maybe, but ok. Hey, you never said you knew my sister."

Remy frowned, puzzled. "Sister?"

Mac grinned, patiently. "Sienna."

"Oh. Her. Um, yeah, kinda I guess, slightly."

Remy couldn't stop himself from grinning, but his grin turned into a look of bemusement as he was grabbed from behind and spun around. Tonks peered worriedly at him."

"Are you alright?"

Remy nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine, thanks. Ow!" He rubbed his arm where Tonks had just thumped him. "What was that for?"

"Don't worry us again, idiot." She grinned brightly and hugged him tightly, before dragging him down the table and thrusting him towards Charlie Weasley. "Take better care of him, Charlie. I can't do it. He's a year younger then me. Plus he's in your house."

Charlie shot her a withering look. "And he's a year younger than me as well, idiot. I can't be his keeper." He grinned at Remy and slid up to let him take his seat. "Not that I think he actually needs one, but he's all yours, Danny."

Danny laughed. "Thanks a lot."

The third and fourth year Gryffindors around him grinned and nodded at Remy, before resuming their meal and conversations. Some of the third year girls giggled and whispered to each other, not too quietly, while Remy tried hard not to blush. Danny shoved a dish of chicken towards Remy with a smile, while Matt threw a roll of bread at him from across the table. Even Gideon stopped frowning worriedly long enough to smile at him. Dumbledore smiled at Professor McGonagall as they took their seats. She raised an eyebrow and followed his gaze.

"Yes, alright, I have to admit, it does seem that Remy has settled in somewhat better than perhaps even he thought."

"Indeed it does, Minerva."

She glared at Dumbledore for a few seconds before finally smiling benevolently in Remy's direction. "He is a likeable young man, although I still have some concerns about his previous schooling."

"Duly noted, Minerva."


	16. Chapter 15

Monday's detention was helping Filch with whatever needed doing. Remy half expected to be cleaning the bathrooms with a toothbrush, but instead, he was given the job of polishing the various cups in the trophy cabinet.

"I want to see my face in them," wheezed Filch. "And no using magic. I'll be back to check."

Mrs Norris rubbed against the table leg and glared balefully at Remy. Remy ignored her. He found if he ignored her, she tended to leave him alone. He was glad her fur had grown back, with a little help from Professor Snape and his potions. She really had looked a sight without fur. She lay down by Remy's feet and started batting at his shoelaces. He stopped polishing and looked down at her.

"Just remember, moggy, I know how to shave you now."

She hissed at him, half heartedly, and stalked off, presumably to find Filch. Remy continued polishing the trophies. Hard work wasn't something that scared Remy, and absorbed in the work, he soon finished cleaning them all. He checked over them carefully, making sure he hadn't left any polish on them, or missed any spots. Satisfied with his work, he was just putting the polish and cloths back in the box when Filch returned.

Filch frowned at him. "You're supposed to clean all of them."

Remy raised an eyebrow. "I have cleaned all of them."

"I mean properly."

Remy shrugged. "So do I."

"Give them here." Filch snatched one of the trophies up and examined it closely, his face showing his disappointment when he couldn't find a fault. He glared accusingly at Remy. "You used magic."

Remy shook his head. "Nope. No magic. Just elbow grease and polish."

Filch's pale eyes bulged as he checked another trophy. "Harumph. Well, I suppose you did a half decent job. Still, you should have been suspended for shaving my cat. By the thumbs. I still have the thumbscrews in the dungeon. If I had my way, they'd be back in use."

Remy grinned. "Thumbscrews? Ratchet or self tightening?"

Filch blinked, surprised. "Ratchet."

Remy nodded. "Best type. Although, I always think they're wasted on thumbs." He set off toward the door, as Filch's jaw worked overtime trying to form a reply. "Oh, and I didn't shave your cat."

-o-o-o-

Dumbledore sighed. The boy was as stubborn as his father. Remy just sat there, looking back at him with a determined expression. "Yes, Remy, I realise that Professor Sheridan has probably been a little heavy handed with you, and maybe he made a mistake in one of his classes. He says he meant Welsh Pixies, not Irish ones."

Remy snorted and shook his head, disbelievingly. Dumbledore gritted his teeth and continued. "And I know I suggested that you be more yourself, but sawing through the man's chair legs was not what I had in mind. Nor was booby trapping his desk to explode when he opened it. That explosion actually singed his eyebrows." Dumbledore was trying his best to look stern, but Remy's cheeky grin was more than a little infectious. "And wearing your tie around your wrist is not in accordance with school regulations."

Remy opened his mouth to protest, but Dumbledore had anticipated his response. "Yes, I know it doesn't specify the tie should be worn around the neck in the regulations, but that is generally where a tie is supposed to be worn."

He stared down his nose at Remy, who managed to look a little contrite. "Yeah, sorry, Professor. But the desk thing was just too good a chance to pass up. Besides, he had it coming."

"And what do you think your father would say about all this?"

Remy didn't even have to pause to think about that. "He'd probably say I should have lamped him one ages back."

Dumbledore sighed. "Yes, knowing your father, he probably would say that. However, I would prefer to find a more ... diplomatic resolution. I have asked Professor Sheridan to disregard today's incidents. He is not happy about the situation, but since you are fully booked this week with detentions for me, there's not much he can do about it right now. However, I expect you to try harder in future, Remy."

Remy sighed and nodded. "Yes, Professor."

-o-o-o-

Tuesday's detention was helping Professor Snape to tidy up the Potions lab, although it ended up more as a lesson in getting the quantities right in a mixture and not blowing a hole in the wall. Or table.

Wednesday's detention was helping Professor Sprout transplant seedlings in the greenhouse. Or at least, it should have been. He ran into Morgan on the way and what started out as a few sarcastic barbed comments soon degenerated into a wild tussle in the corridor. Morgan managed to slam Remy's backwards into a wall, banging his head, splitting his lip, and momentarily stunning him. Remy soon gathered his wits and returned the favour, although Morgan's head managed to catch a door frame en route. Morgan sank to his knees, groaning and clutching his head. Remy looked at him, concerned.

"You ok?"

"Yeah, great," grimaced Morgan. "Or I will be when the world stops spinning."

"Morgan! Logan!"

Neither boy had noticed Professor McGonagall arrive on he scene.

"Shit," mumbled Morgan.

"We're screwed," agreed Remy, under his breath.

"Exactly what do you think you're doing?" She glared at the pair sternly.

"Er, fighting, Professor. Sorry." Remy tried to look contrite. Morgan stared at him, dumbfounded. Remy returned his look with a shrug. "What? It's not like we could say we were flower arranging."

Professor McGonagall looked unimpressed. "Well, thank you for being honest at least. Both of you, my office. Now."

Morgan struggled to his feet and wobbled slightly. Remy stepped forwards and caught his elbow to steady him.

"He banged his head, Professor," explained Remy. "Maybe Madame Pomfrey should check him out. Can't be too careful with a head injury."

Professor McGonagall sighed. "Very well. Take him to the hospital wing, and then back to my office, Logan. No dawdling. We need to have a long discussion about your behavior."

Remy groaned inwardly. "Yes, Professor."

-o-o-o-

It took Remy a while to steer Morgan to the hospital wing safely and get back to McGonagall's office. It would have taken less time, but he'd stopped in the boy's toilets to try and stop his lip from bleeding. The door was open. He knocked on the door and walked in slowly, with his head hung slightly, partly to hide his lip, and partly to suggest sorrow at his actions. She glared at him.

"How is Morgan?"

"Just stunned. He'll be fine."

"Well at least that's something to be grateful for. It would seem the pair of you did no lasting damage to each other. There were reports of fights involving you before your ... temporary absence. I had hoped that it was just a case of you settling in and that we had got past the worst of any trouble. However, it seems that you and Morgan are intent on trying to slam each other's heads through any available wall at every opportunity. I can not allow this to continue."

She paused and turned towards the doorway.

"Did you want something, Severus?"

Professor Snape drifted in. "Just checking on the other combatant, Minerva. Morgan will no doubt have an impressive headache tomorrow and be in no fit state for a rematch. At the moment, he seems more concerned about Logan's welfare." He cast a lazy glance at Remy. "According to Morgan, he wasn't the only one whose head hit a wall."

Professor McGonagall spun back to look more closely at Remy, finally noticing his split lip. She shook her head. Snape strode over and tilted Remy's head up, regarding his lip critically.

"Poppy could have healed that for you, if you'd given her the chance."

Remy avoided eye contact. Snape raised his wand. Remy instinctively flinched and drew his own wand, holding it in a defensive stance. McGonagall looked somewhat startled, but Snape merely raised an eyebrow.

"Put that away, boy, unless you're intending to heal your lip yourself."

Remy took a breath and slowly lowered his wand, but kept it in his hand, by his side.

Snape ignored the worried look that McGonagall shot at him and flicked his wand expertly.

"Episkey."

Remy felt his lip tingle and twitch a little. He automatically raised his free hand to touch it, and grinned when he realised his lip had been healed. His wand vanished from view.

"Thanks."

Snape inclined his head slightly. "Next time, let Poppy heal you."

McGonagall frowned at him. "I was hoping to avoid a 'next time'."

Snape waved a hand dismissively. "Good luck with that. Oh, and by the way, Morgan says he started the fight and that Remy was only acting in self defence."

McGonagall turned to face Remy. "Is this true?"

Remy tilted his head to the right, considering this. "Sort of. I s'pose. I mean, it just sort of happened. I wasn't looking for a fight, I was heading to ... oh hell!"

McGonagall scowled. "Now what?"

There was a knock on the door and Professor Sprout bustled in. "Ah, Minerva. I was just wondering if you'd seen ... oh, Remy. There you are."

McGonagall looked in confusion from Professor Sprout to Remy and back again. Snape barely concealed a grin as he dropped himself languidly into a chair. Remy grinned sheepishly.

"I was heading to detention with Professor Sprout." Remy smiled apologetically at the relieved looking Herbology Professor. "Sorry, Professor. I ... er ..."

"Got waylaid," supplied Snape, with an air of bored amusement.

"Well, as long as you're alright." She smiled benevolently at Remy.

"So you were on your way to a detention and stopped for a fight?" McGonagall was still glaring fiercely at Remy.

Remy shuffled his feet slightly and nodded. "I guess so, yes. Sorry, Professor."

"Well, you're fully booked with detentions for the rest of the week, so you'll have to serve tonight's planned detention on Monday instead. If that's alright with you, Pomona?"

Professor Sprout nodded. "That's fine. See you Monday, Remy. And don't be late." She smiled at McGonagall and bustled back out.

McGonagall sighed and sat down at her desk. "What am I going to do with you, Logan?"

Remy shrugged and wisely kept quiet.

Snape shifted slightly in his chair. "Morgan will be serving a detention for me next Tuesday night. Perhaps Remy should join him." His mouth twitched with amusement. McGonagall favored him with one of her sternest looks, but no further information was forthcoming.

"Very well. Detention on Tuesday, Logan. And a deduction of 5 house points for the pair of you. Now go and let Madame Pomfrey check you for any other injuries."

Remy opened his mouth to protest, but shut it quickly as she glared at him.

"Yes, Professor." He left quickly, before she could add to the punishment.

When he was safely out of earshot, Professor McGonagall took her glasses off and rubbed her temples.

"What am I going to do with him, Severus?"

Professor Snape smiled enigmatically. "I'm sure he'll calm down soon enough. He just needs a way to burn off that excess energy he seems to have, and something to focus his mind on apart from his studies."

"Excess energy?"

He nodded. "Have you never noticed how he rarely sits still. I don't mean he fidgets with boredom. It's just his fingers are always busy, or he taps his foot. I doubt he's even aware of it himself most of the time. His homework always comes complete with doodles in the margins. Well, his potions homework does, anyway."

She sighed. "As do his Transfiguration assignments. I thought it was just me. He does it in potions too?" Snape inclined his head in agreement. "Perhaps he does need a distraction then. You seem to have taken quite a shine to him."

Snape's face immediately became blank and unreadable. "Not at all."

She chuckled, not buying the act. "Hmm. I was wondering if perhaps he reminded you of someone, in some small way." She stared at him meaningfully, and he had the good grace to squirm slightly in his chair, although he tried to disguise it as making himself more comfortable.

"I can't imagine what you mean."

"Small, quiet, detached. Always getting into ... skirmishes." Her eyes twinkled a little mischievously.

He glowered and stood up to leave.

"Maybe not," she chuckled. "He fights better that you did. With his fists at least."

Snape gathered his robes around him and left with a swirl of black cloth and what sounded like a harrumph noise.

-o-o-o-

Wednesday morning brought an owl delivery that Remy hadn't been expecting. He scratched his head peering at the round shaped package, while Sooty ate one of Rob's sausages.

"What is that thing, Remy?"

Remy shrugged. "No idea, Rob. There's no tag either. Sooty brought it though, so I don't think it's gonna blow up." He sounded more convinced than he felt. True, Sooty was a guard owl, and he doubted Sooty would have delivered anything dangerous to him, but the lack of a tag was making him nervous.

Charlie slid into place beside Remy. "What you got?"

"Dunno."

"Well open it." Charlie loaded his plate with toast.

"Yeah, come on, Remy, open it." Danny dropped into place on the other side of Remy and grabbed a bowl of cornflakes.

Remy sighed and started to carefully unwrap the strange package. He stopped and frowned, peering at the contents inside.

"So, what is it?" asked Danny between mouthfuls of cornflakes.

"It looks like a basketball."

"A basketball?" Charlie peered at the package with more enthusiasm. "Who sent it?"

"No idea." Remy removed the last of the wrappings, revealing a brand new basketball. "Kinda cool though." He spotted the note attached to the ball and removed it quickly, before anyone else saw it.

"I've read about basketball, even tried playing a few times with Bill back at home. Was never really sure about the rules though." Charlie's toast had been quickly abandoned at the thought of a new game.

Remy grinned as he surreptitiously read the note. "Oh, I can teach you the rules. I love basketball. Great way to burn off energy." He shot a sideways glance down the table at Snape, who met his eye with a slight smile, before studiously turning his attention back to his own breakfast.

"Well a ball is great, but don't you need a hoop as well?" Bill grinned as his brother shot him one of those looks.

Remy laughed. "Not a problem. I think I know where we can find a hoop. Apparently there's a basketball court out towards the Quidditch training grounds. Well, there is from today anyway."

-o-o-o-

Remy spent his free time that afternoon playing basketball with Mac, Josh, Danny and Charlie. Rob had declined an invitation to play, saying it was a "stupid Muggle game of no useful purpose." Surprisingly, Matt had accepted Danny's invitation to tag along, although he only watched from the sidelines. Charlie proved to be quite a skilful player, and fun to be around. He seemed to share his father's good nature. Charlie's older brother, Bill, also came to watch for a while, cheering Charlie on, and trying to distract Josh.

"Shut up, Weasley," laughed Josh. "I may forget to use the ball and slam dunk your brother's head instead."

"Well, that's possible," grinned Bill. "He's so forgetful, Mum always says he'd forget his head if it was loose."

"Hey!" Charlie tried to look hurt and indignant. Remy took the opportunity to snatch the ball from him, dribble down the court at speed, before leaping high and rolling the ball in off the rim.

"He shoots, he scores!"

Josh laughed and high-fived Remy. Charlie glared at his brother, and then laughed.

"Now see what you did."

Bill shrugged. "You should have been paying attention. Nice steal, Remy."

Remy beamed. "Thanks."

Charlie looked thoughtful. "I don't suppose you play Quidditch, Remy?"

Remy shook his head. "Nope. Sorry."

"Maybe you should try out. If you fly like you play basketball, you'd be a natural chaser."

Remy just grinned. "Think I got enough to do already, without adding Quidditch to the list."


	17. Chapter 16

Thursday's detention was under the watchful eye of Professor McGonagall. Remy stifled a yawn a couple of times and tried really hard to concentrate on the book he'd been given to read and make notes from. Transfiguration was never going to be his favorite subject. His mind drifted back to the forest and the creatures he'd seen. He doodled absently as he tried to work out what had stunned those squirrels he'd kept seeing. He was convinced it was related to the shaving of Mrs Norris in some way, but he still couldn't work out who it might have been.

"Logan!"

Remy nearly jumped out of his skin and swivelled in his seat, looking up into the sternly set face of Professor McGonagall.

"Sorry, Professor, I ... er ... " He had no idea what to say. He'd simply got lost in his own little world, but he was pretty sure she already knew that.

McGonagall peered over his shoulder to see what he'd been doing and frowned.

"Drawing?"

Remy looked back at his notebook, but made no effort to hide it from her gaze. "Er. Yes. Sorry, Professor."

Her face softened slightly. "They're not bad. Not quite what you were supposed to be doing, but not bad. Squirrels?"

He shrugged. "Hadn't realised that's what I was drawing."

"What do you normally draw?"

He thought about that for a moment. "Animals and birds usually. Landscapes sometimes. I tried drawing people once, but I'm better at animals."

"It would be easier to draw with a pencil and sketch book, than a pen and notebook." She managed a disapproving look and stared meaningfully at the text book he'd been supposed to be reading.

"Yeah, sorry Professor, wasn't doing it on purpose. Haven't got any pencils or paper anyway." He picked the book up and put his pen down, to make it easier to resist the temptation to doodle some more.

"Well, perhaps you can get your Uncle to send some. In the meantime, detention over. Run along and get some sleep, before you yawn any more. Go on. Go, before I change my mind."

-o-o-o-

Remy stared at the package on the table at breakfast with a frown. He knew Sooty hadn't delivered this one, as the owl was nowhere in sight and he always stuck around after a delivery in the hope of getting a sausage. He gently prodded the package in a half hearted attempt to guess the contents. It was a fairly flat package, slightly wider than a book and not as deep.

"Oh for pities sake, just open it." Danny seemed to be just as curious as Remy.

Remy picked the package up and cautiously opened it. "Oh, cool." His face lit up with a bright beam.

"Wotcha got this time, Remy?" Tonks peered over Remy's shoulder to get a look. He held them up for her to see.

"A sketch pad and pencils."

"Great. Now you can go draw ... things."

"You draw?" Charlie peered at the wrappings from around the sketch pad. "Who sent this anyway?"

Remy shrugged and tilted his head, thinking, then shot a quick glance down the table towards Professor McGonagall. She smiled back at him and inclined her head slightly. Remy grinned brightly at her. "No idea."

-o-o-o-

Dark Arts on Friday did not start well. Sheridan seemed to be in an even worse mood than normal, something Remy had previously thought to be impossible. He shouted at two students for being a minute late to class, and then berated the entire class for their last homework assignments. Remy tried to keep a low profile, slumped down in his seat, trying not to watch the man's singed eyebrows as they danced in anger. After lecturing the class for several minutes on the necessity to study hard, he told them all to turn to a page in their text books and read quietly.

Remy saw the cat out of the corner of his eye. A silver tabby cat, with square markings around it's eyes. It strolled into the classroom, with the air of belonging there and peered around, before heading over to the window. It leapt up on the window ledge and stretched out, it's back to the window, facing into the room.

Remy had a strange feeling about the cat. His hackles weren't rising, but there was something strange about it, something he couldn't explain. He watched it surreptitiously for a while, or at least he tried to, but every time he looked over, the cat seemed to be looking right back at him. He shook his head, and concentrated on his book. None of his business if a cat chose to sleep on that particular window bottom.

Several other members of the class appeared to have seen the cat, and a lot of nudging of neighbors and kicking at the chair in front ensued. Remy tried to ignore the disturbances and concentrated on reading his book. Sheridan didn't like people chatting in his class, and Remy was determined not to give the man an excuse to try to get him in trouble. The exploding desk had been fun, but Remy was pretty sure Dumbledore was not going to be so forgiving about many more complaints.

Sheridan suddenly seemed to notice the whispered mutterings, and slammed his desk loudly on the desk. Several students jumped and gasped in surprise. "What is all the commotion about? Logan! Is this your doing?"

Remy looked up from his book. "No, Professor. Not guilty."

Sheridan glared at him. "A likely story. Be warned, I'm watching you, boyo. Now all read your books."

Remy shook his head, but went back to reading his book. The rest of the class quietened down too, and resorted to passing each other notes about the cat instead. Remy studiously ignored them.

"Logan!"

Remy looked up. Sheridan was glaring at him again. "Yes, Professor?"

"What have you got there, Munroe? Give it to me, this instance."

Sheridan strode purposefully down the classroom, past Remy, and stood tapping his foot. Rob reluctantly handed over the note. Sheridan sneered gleefully.

"I knew it. Passing notes in class. Detention, Logan."

Remy turned to look at Sheridan in disbelief. "But I wasn't passing notes."

"Silence, boyo."

"But it's true, Professor, Remy wasn't involved." Danny sank down in his seat as Sheridan favored him with a withering glare.

"I said, silence," thundered Sheridan. Remy could see the veins on his neck bulge, and thought he saw a spot on his cheek twitch slightly. Danny and Remy exchanged bemused shrugs, while Rob avoided eye contact with either of them. The cat on the window ledge sat up, watching Sheridan with narrowed eyes. Sheridan glanced at the note, and frowned. He finally seemed to sense the cat's presence. He spun around quickly, knocking Danny's book from his desk.

"What in heaven's name?" he spluttered, glaring at the cat. The cat glared back. Sheridan took a step backwards, unsettled by the cat's piercing gaze, knocking Danny's book to the floor for the second time. Remy watched, fascinated. He'd never seen Sheridan so rattled. Hell, if he'd known earlier that all it took to spook him was a cat in the classroom, he'd have kidnapped Mrs Norris and glued her to the man's desk. "Who brought that cat in here? Logan! If this is your doing, I'll have you thrown out of the school."

Remy stared at Sheridan in utter disbelief. "I didn't bring it in, Professor. I don't think anyone did. It walked in on it's own."

The cat stretched and hopped gracefully from the window ledge. Sheridan backed away from the cat. The cat stretched languidly, then stalked purposefully towards the exit. Sheridan halted, then started to make his way back to the front of the class, keeping a row of desks between himself and the cat. He seemed oblivious to the whisperings and nudges going on around the class. He darted quickly behind his own desk at the front and looked around warily, but seemed happy that the cat had left. He gathered his composure and the sneer reappeared on his face.

"Good, well, now that the cat has left, read your books. Quietly."

Remy shrugged and returned to his reading. The rest of the class soon quietened down and reopened their books. Sheridan looked around nervously for the remainder of the class, peering down the rows of desks, as though searching for the cat. Remy wasn't sure why the cat had upset Sheridan so much, but he was happy that it had apparently distracted Sheridan from yelling at him for no good reason. However, he knew Sheridan wasn't going to see the cat again for the rest of the class. Well, unless the cat moved from its current spot, curled up by Remy's feet.

When the bell rang to signal the end of the class, Sheridan looked relieved. "Out. All of you. Quick sharp." Everyone hurried to stuff their books back in their bags. All except Remy. The cat had leapt onto his desk when the bell rang and was steadfastly refusing to remove its paws from his text book. "That means you too, Logan. Unless you want another detention."

Remy shrugged. "No, Professor. It's just ... well ... "

"Just what, boyo?"

The boy in front of Remy moved, and Sheridan could suddenly see Remy's desk clearly. And the cat.

"I knew it was your fault. You're just a no good troublemaker. We'll see what the Headmaster has to say about this. Disrupting my class in this way. You should be thrown out. Everyone else, get out. Now."

Remy sighed. Great, now he was in trouble because a stray cat decided to sit on his book. Everyone hurried to leave the room, with several mumbling condolences to Remy on their way out, and muttering darkly about Sheridan heavy handedness. The cat watched them leave, still refusing to move it's paws from Remy's book. As the last student left, the cat leapt to the floor. Sheridan flinched and watched it intently.

"Get that thing under control, Logan."

Remy sighed, exasperated. "It's not my cat, Professor."

"Indeed I am not."

Remy frowned in surprise at Professor McGonagall's voice, He looked at the cat, but it wasn't there. Professor McGonagall was standing by his desk instead, looking a little ruffled. Remy tilted his head to the right, thinking furiously. Of course! The markings around the cat's eyes were just like McGonagall's glasses. The cat was Professor McGonagall. He'd heard rumors that she was an Animage, but he hadn't realised she was a cat. He stared at her with new found respect. Sheridan, however, appeared to be less impressed. In fact, he'd gone rather pale. Very pale. He was currently making Snape look well tanned.

"Remy, could you leave us now please?" McGonagall had her stern gaze firmly targeted on the squirming Professor Sheridan. Remy grinned to himself, but grabbed his books and practically ran from the room, nearly banging into Dumbledore on his way.

"Sorry, Professor."

Dumbledore appeared to be too distracted to have even noticed.

-o-o-o-

Several of the staff were missing from lunch. Remy knew that Dumbledore, McGonagall and Sheridan were still in the Dark Arts room. Raised voices had been heard, although most students were taking great pains to stay well clear. One or two Slytherin students had attempted to edge close enough to the room to hear what was happening, but had retreated very quickly with glowing red ears. Remy was heading out of the dining hall when Dumbledore finally made an appearance.

"Ah, Remy. A word please."

Remy followed Dumbledore to one side.

"Would it be possible for you to get word to your Uncle today, and to get a reply?"

Remy frowned worriedly. "Sooty is pretty fast, so I guess so. Um. Did I do something wrong?"

Dumbledore smiled reassuringly. "No, Remy. Nothing wrong at all. Various staff members have raised the issue of your uniform again, or lack thereof."

Remy looked down. Well his jeans were beginning to look like they could do with a wash, but he only had the one pair of black ones, and he'd given up on the shirt. He preferred t-shirts anyway. His tie was still wrapped around his wrist, and instead of the robes worn by the other students, he was wearing a dark grey hooded top. It was close to a uniform. Perhaps not close enough though.

"Yeah, well I've tried getting my Uncle to send me a uniform. Wasn't exactly successful. My godfather sent me this stuff from home. It's the best I can do."

Dumbledore smiled. "Yes, I am aware of that. I was thinking more of your Uncle meeting you in town so that he had no excuses for getting the wrong size."

Remy stared at Dumbledore wide eyed. "Seriously?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Seriously. I have a list of things you need. Apparently you are still short a cauldron, a broom and a few books. Perhaps you could get them at the same time."

Remy nodded. "Not a problem."

Dumbledore smiled. "Well, in that case, please ask your Uncle if he can meet you in Diagon Alley tomorrow morning. Professor McGonagall has business to attend to in town. She can accompany you there, and accompany you back when you have bought everything you need. As long as your Uncle agrees to meet you there."

Remy nodded eagerly. "I can do that." He paused and looked pensive, before grinning brightly. "Everything I need?"

Dumbledore nodded warily. "Yes, Remy, within reason anyway."

"Does that mean I can get a pet rat?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "And how exactly are you going to explain a pet rat to your father on his return?"

Remy shrugged with a cheeky grin. "Dunno. Same way I'm gonna explain an owl I guess. I could always try 'He followed me home. Can I keep him?'."

-o-o-o-

Friday night's detention was in the care of Madame Hooch. Remy didn't mind that at all, as he liked her, and he was way too excited about the forthcoming shopping trip to care what the detention was anyway.

"Come along, Remy, stop daydreaming."

Remy hurried after Madame Hooch, puzzled by where they were going. They seemed to be heading to the Quidditch pitch. Maybe she wanted him to sweep the stands or something. As they got nearer, he could see various boys practising Quidditch, all in Gryfindor colors, including Charlie and Bill Weasley. He slowed and frowned. Madame Hooch stopped and looked back at him.

"Ever played Quidditch, Remy?"

He shook his head, watching as Charlie swooped after a small glittering walnut, that appeared to have wings.

"Know the rules?"

He shook his head again.

"Well, time to learn. Come on, stop dawdling. I haven't got all night."

-o-o-o-

Remy stood on the side of the Quidditch pitch, staring at the 4 'balls' and trying to take in everything he'd just been told. Madame Hooch and Charlie were watching him try and digest the information. Charlie was convinced he could smell burning as the cogs in Remy's brain whirred at high speed.

"So, let me see if I've got this straight." Remy looked directly at Madame Hooch. "That red ball in the middle ..."

"The Quaffle," supplied Madame Hooch.

Remy nodded. "Yeah, the Quaffle. You're supposed to get that into the opposing team goal. Or rather, goals, 'cause there's three goals per team." He looked at Charlie for confirmation.

Charlie nodded. "You got it, Remy."

Remy frowned. "Yeah, well that bit's kinda like football or basketball, 'cept for there being 3 goals and each goal scoring 10 points. I get that part. But then there's 2 other balls ... those black ones. Bludgeons?"

"Bludgers," corrected Madame Hooch.

"Ok. Bludgers. They try to knock people off their brooms, from either team, for no apparent reason. And then there's that tiny little ball with wings ..."

"The Snitch," said Madame Hooch.

"Snitch, yeah. I always thought a snitch was someone who grassed you up. Anyway, this snitch thing, flies around the pitch randomly at high speed, and only one person per team is allowed to try and catch it, and when it gets caught, that's the end of the game, and the team gets 150 points. So if you were winning 140 to nil, and the opposing team caught that thing, you'd lose. Which kinda sucks. Is that about it?"

Madame Hooch chuckled. "Well, it's an interesting interpretation, Remy, but yes, that's about it."

Remy frowned. "What happens if no one catches the Snitch? I mean, the game can't go on forever, right?"

Madame Hooch smiled. "Well, the game ends when the Snitch is caught or an agreement is reached between the captains of both teams. Rarely comes to an agreement though. One captain would have to agree to lose. The Snitch usually gets caught within a couple of hours, although some games can go on for days. The record is supposed to be six months. Any other questions?"

"Just one. How drunk were they when they came up with this?"

Charlie doubled up laughing. "Oh gods, Remy. Ok, you have to play to understand it fully. Come on, grab a broom and let's play. You can be a chaser, so you have to try and score. We'll play without Bludgers or a Snitch for now, until you get used to it. First team to 100 wins."


	18. Chapter 17

Remy stood impatiently with Professor McGonagall at the entrance area to Diagon Alley. The entire length of the Alley was decked out brightly with Halloween objects, and all the shop windows seemed to be filled with pumpkins and black cats. The cauldron shop in particular seemed to have gone overboard with their decorations. But then, on a normal day, half their stock looked like Halloween decorations to Remy.

They'd been there five whole minutes, and still so sign of Fitz. Granted they'd arrived ten minutes early, mainly due to Remy's impatience, but still, Fitz should have been here by now. Maybe he'd forgotten. Or got involved at work. That was probably it. Scrimgeour had dropped a huge pile of work on his desk, and Fitz couldn't get away. Remy was plotting his revenge, which mainly involved chewing through a few chair legs, when he saw the familiar purple hair weaving through the crowd of people towards them.

"Ah, there you are. Hello Professor McGonagall. Remy's Uncle sends his apologies, but he's got caught up with something at the Ministry and he's been unavoidably delayed. He sent me over to help Remy with his shopping. Hiya Remy. Your Uncle said he'd meet us for lunch, if that's ok." Sienna beamed brightly at him, and Remy grinned back. He knew it. Work. Typical. He was definitely going to chew Scrimgeour's chair leg when he got the chance. Or hide his glasses.

Professor McGonagall seemed slightly doubtful. "How is work at the Ministry, Miss MacEnzie?"

Sienna favored her with a bright smile. "Going really well, thank you Professor. I'm enjoying the work immensely. I get to meet all manner of interesting people."

Remy hid his grin. Meet interesting people ... and hex them into the middle of next week usually.

"And you work with Remy's Uncle?"

Sienna's smile remained bright. "We work on the same floor. And Remy and I have met before."

Remy nodded and smiled brightly at Professor McGonagall too. "I have the list of things I need to get, Professor. I'm sure we'll manage, until my Uncle is free."

Professor McGonagall looked from Sienna's bright smile, to Remy's matching smile, before finally relenting. "Very well. I'll leave you in charge Miss MacEnzie. I'll meet you back here at 4 o'clock sharp. Oh, and Remy?"

"Yes, Professor?"

"Please try and acquire everything on the list. Including the robes. And get that permission slip signed too."

Sienna and Remy watched her leave, both smiling brightly until she was out of sight.

"Phew, thank heavens for that. I thought she'd never leave. How are you doing, Remy?" Sienna ruffled his hair playfully, and Remy grinned, letting her.

"I'm good, how's you?"

"Doing good. How's Hogwarts?"

Remy pulled a face, and Sienna laughed.

"Oh, come on, it can't be that bad. I mean, ok, some of the Professor's are hard work, but it's a good school."

Remy nodded, but managed to look unconvinced.

Sienna chuckled. "Well, maybe it will grow on you. Now, where's this list?"

Remy handed it to her, and she read it quickly. "Merlins teeth, that's a hell of a list, Remy. I thought you just needed a new shirt or something."

Remy shrugged. "Well, I need a new shirt too. Do we have to shop here though?"

Sienna frowned at him. "You mean here in Diagon Alley? Why, Remy? What did you have in mind?"

Remy grinned cheekily. "Well, you know I prefer skater gear to the stuff they sell here. The jeans here are terrible, and the sneakers, I mean trainers, are ... well, they suck. Big style, big time. And I need new sneakers, 'cause these are falling apart. I can think of a few other shops I'd rather go to. If that's cool with you anyway."

Sienna shook her head with a grin. "Ok, Remy, we'll go shop elsewhere, and meet Fitz for lunch. After that, you're shopping where Fitz wants to go. Deal?"

Remy grinned. "Deal."

-o-o-o-

"Gawd, Remy, did you have to buy the entire shop?"

"I didn't buy the entire shop, Sienna. Just a pair of sneakers, a pair of boots, a couple of tops, in the right colors, new black jeans and some tees, and pajamas, long sleeved, should keep Snape happy at least, and you said that dressing gown suited me ..."

Sienna laughed. "Dark grey, towelling, hooded. It does suit you, Remy. Ok, so there's still some stuff you need, but that's a lot of it done."

They collapsed at a table in the corner of the Leaky Cauldron, piling the bags on a chair. Neither of them saw Fitz enter. He looked around, quickly spotting the pair, and then the pile of bags. He shook his head with a smile and headed for the bar. He ordered his drink and then whistled quietly. Remy span around in his chair.

"Fitz!"

Fitz laughed. "Hi Remy. Sienna. Had a busy morning?" He looked meaningfully at the pile of shopping.

Sienna laughed. "Well, it's all on the list. Well, most of it anyway. Mine's a lemonade please, Fitz."

"Remy?"

"Same, please."

Fitz brought the drinks over, ruffled Remy's hair, and sat down next to Sienna. "Is that all your shopping done?"

Remy took a drink of lemonade. "No, still some more to get. A cauldron and some potion stuff. And a couple of books."

"And robes, Remy. Don't forget the robes."

Remy glared balefully at Sienna. "Yeah. Robes. I hate robes."

"You got a hat, Remy?"

Remy shook his head vehemently. "No way in hell am I wearing a hat, for anyone or anything. Unless it's a beanie or a baseball cap."

Fitz laughed. "We'll get you a baseball cap with the Hogwarts emblem on it then."

Remy grinned. "Great idea."

"Got a broom, Remy?"

Remy spun around again, before practically leaping from his chair and launching himself at the newcomer. "Remus!"

Remus laughed as he hugged Remy tightly. "How are you doing, kiddo?"

"Better for seeing you." Remy released Remus from the hug and regarded him critically from head to foot. "How are you?"

Remus grinned. "I'm fine, Remy. Honestly. Tired, but in perfect health." He took the seat next to Remy, as Fitz put a pint of beer down in front of him. "Thanks, Fitz. I need this."

Remy waited, somewhat patiently, while Remus took a long drink. "So, you back for a while, or are you heading off again?"

"Back for a while, Remy. Providing the Ministry have a use for my services, that is."

Fitz nodded. "Always, Remus. We need the help right now. Mad-Eye is still away, and we're short a few bodies."

"Well, if anyone would know where the bodies were, it would be, Alastor Moody."

"Slugger!"

Fitz laughed and headed back to the bar for another drink, as Horace Slughorn finally peeled Remy from him and lowered himself into a chair.

"Ah, thank you, Fitzroy. Much appreciated. And to think, Remy, when I first met you, I could barely get more than a shy grin from you. These days, you're like a limpit."

Remy grinned sheepishly. This wasn't the same as knowing Al was safe and well, but it came a close second.

"You're looking well, Horace."

"Why, thank you, Fitz. I must admit, I'm feeling remarkably sprightly at the moment."

"So, what's the secret to eternal youth then?"

"Oh, that's simple. Sex nearly every day."

Sienna spluttered on her lemonade. Remy giggled as Slughorn continued.

"Nearly on a Monday, nearly on a Tuesday, nearly on a Wednesday."

-o-o-o-

Lunch was the most fun Remy had had in ages, and the time just flew by. Eventually, Sienna headed back to work, after making Remy promise to get chocolate frogs for her brother, and Slugger left for a meeting with an old acquaintance, who apparently had a source of fresh pineapples. Horace Slughorn could never resist the temptation of fresh pineapple. Remus yawned and stretched.

"Ok, Remy, time for me to go get some sleep. I'll go fetch your broom and those books you need and send them on to you. And remember what I said."

Remy nodded. "I know. Be myself. Stop trying to be what I think people want me to be. I got it."

"Good." Remus grinned and ruffled Remy's hair. "Ok, little brother, I'll write to you weekly, ok?"

Remy nodded happily.

Fitz smiled. "See you Monday, Remus. Ok, Remy. Let's see if we can get everything else on your list."

-o-o-o-

By five minutes to four, Remy had his permission slip signed, although he wasn't sure what it was permission for, and everything on his list packed neatly in a new rucksack, including a set of the despised robes which Remy was determined to never wear if he could possibly help it. Well, packed relatively neatly, and with a lot of use of magic to shrink things. Although less bulky to carry, the rucksack was fairly heavy, but Fitz was carrying it on one shoulder like it was a bag of cotton wool.

"That's everything on the list then, Remy, along with half the sweet shop, and all in time to meet your Professor. I'll sort that baseball cap out for you later. And don't worry, I'll get Remus to pick the right size and color."

Remy grinned and nodded, then stopped dead in his tracks. "Oh, I forgot."

Fitz frowned at him, concerned. "Forgot what?"

"The rat. The one I was pulling faces at before. I was going to get a pet rat. McGonagall keeps saying I need a familiar, and Sooty is great, but for some reason he's not too keen to let anyone wave a wand near him, so I can't use him for Transfiguration. Dumbledore said I could get a rat. Well, he sorta said I could. Kinda."

Fitz laughed. "The black rat in the shop window? That's what you want for a familiar?"

Remy nodded. "That's the one. Cute, ain't he?"

"Well, I wouldn't exactly call him cute, but he seemed to like you. Ok, well your Professor will just have to put up with you being late. Let's go get the rat. And you're explaining it to Mad-Eye. I think I'll be in enough trouble with him over the owl."

-o-o-o-

Professor McGonagall was a couple of minutes late. However, that didn't seem to be an issue, as Remy was not waiting for her. She frowned and checked her watch against the clock on the wall. Definitely the right time. Where had the boy got to? She looked along the Alley. The crowds from earlier had dwindled and she could see a fair way down, but no sign of Remy. Although, thinking about it, he wasn't that big and would be easy to miss in a crowd. For example, she could see Cameron Fitzroy lurking with intent part way down, near the pet shop. He was a big man, easily 6'8" tall. It would be easy for Remy to be somewhere behind him and not visible.

She stared for a moment. No. Couldn't be. Fitzroy only had one sister that she was aware of, and she lived up in the Scottish Islands. What was her name? Oh, yes, Ailsa. She had 3 daughters, but no sons. Fitzroy couldn't possibly be Remy's Uncle. Could he? Remy had said he was a big man, and she knew he worked at the Ministry, probably in the same department as Sienna MacEnzie. But Fitzroy didn't have a nephew that she was aware of. Still, she needed to find Remy, so she headed down the Alley, in Fitzroy's direction.

As she neared him, he caught her eye and smiled. "Professor McGonagall? Cameron Fitzroy. We have met before, but it was some time ago."

She shook the offered hand and returned his smile. "I remember, yes. How's your sister? Ailsa, isn't it?"

"Ailsa, aye. She's well, thank you. And yourself?"

"Can't complain. Except I appear to have misplaced one of my students."

"Ach, I believe that's my fault. Assuming it's Remy you're looking for?"

She inclined her head slightly. "Yes, it is. Have you seen him?"

He motioned his head towards the pet shop. "We would have been back on time, but I forgot he wanted to get a pet rat. He should have been out by now. Not sure what's taking him so long."

"I see. So Remy is your nephew?"

Fitz peered in the window. "What is keeping him? Maybe I should go check."

-o-o-o-

What was keeping Remy was the shopkeepers reluctance to sell him the rat in the window. He'd offered him a puppy or a kitten, a kneazle or a frog, or even an owl, but Remy just shook his head. He knew what he wanted. He wanted that one black rat from the window. The one he kept pulling faces at.

"But that particular rat is ... well he's not the pet variety."

"So why is he in a pet shop window?"

"He's for display purposes only."

"What? Get real."

"No, no, really, he is. I couldn't sell him. He's ... dangerous. I'd hate him to hurt you, and he could. He always bites me. Vicious thing he is."

Remy regarded the man with a look of complete disbelief. "You'll be telling me next that he's likely to chew my arm off."

The shopkeeper nodded vigorously. "He might. He just might. I couldn't possibly be held responsible for that."

The bells above the door jingled and Remy looked around, expecting it to be Fitz, wondering what was taking so long. But it wasn't.

"Oh. Professor. Um. Sorry, I'm late aren't I?"

She smiled. "A little late, yes. Have you purchased a rat yet."

"Oh, well if it's a rat you want, I have a nice brown one back here, with lovely white markings. Great pet he is, very playful and ..." The shopkeeper fell silent as Remy glared at him.

"I don't want just any rat. I want a specific rat. The black one, in the window. He's been there over a year. I don't see why you can't sell him to me. You obviously can't sell him to anyone else."

"I told you, he's vicious. He bites. He'll hurt you. I have a nice cat I could sell you."

Remy sighed. Professor McGonagall stared sternly at the shopkeeper.

"If Remy wants that particular rat, then why not simply sell it to him."

The shopkeeper withered under her stare and finally relented. "Very well. I'll get him out of the window." He reached under the counter and brought out a thick padded glove and a metal pole with a cord loop on the end. He put the glove on and moved cautiously towards the window. "If I can catch the little monster."

Remy watched in disbelief, before realisation dawned. "You mean, you can't sell me that rat because you can't get him out of the window?"

The shopkeeper looked embarrassed. "Well ... yes."

"Hmm. Ok, well how about, I get him out of the window, without him biting me, and you sell him to me at a good price."

The shopkeeper looked uncertain, but agreed. Remy grinned and walked over to the window, peering into the display. "Hey fella. There you are. Wanna come with me? Or stay here, being bored?"

He held his hand out towards the rat who tilted his head at Remy. The shopkeeper closed his eyes and muttered quietly under his breath. Professor McGonagall watched with great interest. The rat seemed to make up his mind, and scampered into Remy's hand. Remy lifted him gently from the window display and rubbed his ears, before holding him up for Professor McGonagall to see.

"Cute, ain't he?"

Professor McGonagalls mouth twitched with a smile. "I'm not sure cute is a term often used with rats, Remy, but he certainly seems to like you. Now, you're going to need a cage for him, and a travelling box, and probably some toys to keep him occupied. Black rats are highly intelligent. I'm sure we don't want him getting bored and ... attacking people."

The shopkeeper, who'd been staring open mouthed at Remy and the rat, hurried to find all the things the rat would need. Before long there was a huge pile of things on the counter. Remy stared at it and wondered how much this was going to cost him. There were rat sized chew toys, a ball, a wheel, a couple of tubes, a hammock, some poles and a ladder, a large cage that thankfully folded down really small for easy carrying, and a travelling box, that was fairly small, yet big enough to allow the rat to turn around and stretch out fully.

"Um. How much is this going to cost me?"

"For you, a really good price." The shopkeeper stopped just short of rubbing his hands together with glee.

Professor McGonagall glared at the man. "I should think so too. After all, Remy is taking a dangerous creature off your hands and making it safe for you to go near your window once again. Perhaps you should be paying him to remove the rat for you."

The shopkeeper swallowed hard. "Er, like I said. A really good price for you."

Remy stared at the pile of things and thought for a minute. "How about a better price if I don't need all of this?"

The shopkeeper shuffled his feet. "You need to keep him busy."

Remy nodded. "I can do that. But I don't need the hammock, the poles, the ladder, or the tubes. I can make him stuff like that. Pretty sure I can find an old sock and a piece of drainpipe somewhere. Dunno about the wheel but it looks kinda small for him anyway, so forget that too. The chew toys are good, and the ball, and I definitely need the cage and travel box."

The shopkeeper dutifully removed the unwanted items and added up the cost. There was some haggling over the price, but eventually, with a few glares from Professor McGonagall and squeaks from the rat, a price was agreed. Remy paid for the rat and his new toys and they headed out of the shop. Remy handed his new pet to Fitz. Fitz smiled and rubbed the rats ears.

"Very nice, Remy. What are you going to call him?"

"Igor."

"Igor?" Fitz looked puzzled.

"Yep. Igor. The shopkeeper said he's a little monster."

Fitz laughed. "Ok, time for you to go back to school, kid. Be good, keep Igor safe, and remember what we told you. Ok?"

Remy grinned and nodded as Fitz ruffled his hair.


	19. Chapter 18

"Hey, Danny, where's Remy?" Rob was looking around the dining room.

Danny grinned at Rob. "Still trying to build the perfect cage for that damn rat of his. He should rename it Houdini, it's got out twice already. It tried attacking Bill's rat and nearly chewed through a door."

Rob laughed as Erica nearly choked on her pumpkin juice. "Well, he'd better hurry up, or he'll miss breakfast. Ah, he's here. Hey, Remy, got a mask for the Halloween feast yet?"

Remy scrambled into his seat beside Danny and grabbed a bowl of cornflakes, pouring milk over the top and stuffing 3 huge spoonfuls into his mouth, before peering round to wave to Erica and Tonks. He chewed hungrily and swallowed. "What Halloween feast?"

Tonks shook her head and laughed. "Merlin's teeth, Remy. Next week is Halloween, and we always have a special feast, but this year we're supposed to wear some sort of mask. Professor Capella's idea. Should be fun."

At the Slytherin table behind Rob, Laurence snorted and laughed. "The Squib doesn't need a mask. He could come as an idiot."

Several Slytherin's laughed, and Laurence smiled smugly, basking in their attention. Remy just ignored him.

"What sort of mask?"

Tonks shrugged. "Any. Just a mask. Like fancy dress. You must have been to a Halloween party before."

Remy shook his head as he finished chewing his cornflakes. "Nope. I always figured Halloween was just an excuse for kids to eat candy."

"Candy?" Tonks looked puzzled.

Remy mentally kicked himself for that slip. "Candy canes. Oh, wait, that's Christmas. Sweets then."

"See, he's so stupid, he can't tell the difference between Halloween and Christmas." Laurence was really enjoying himself, poking fun at Remy. Remy paid him no attention. He swivelled around on the bench so he was facing Tonks, and she turned so she was facing him.

"So, these masks. What's yours going to be, Tonks?"

"Not sure yet. Witch is a little obvious. Maybe a wolf."

Rob shuddered. "I hate wolves."

Remy frowned. "Why? What's wrong with wolves?"

Rob just shook his head. "Hate them. That's all." He turned his attention to his sausages, effectively ending the conversation.

Tonks and Remy exchanged puzzled shrugs. "Well, I still think it's the best idea I've had so far."

Erica laughed. "It's the only idea you've had so far."

Danny grinned. "Maybe we should all come as wolves, then we could be a wolf pack."

Tonks beamed. "Great idea, Danny. We just need some wolf masks. You in, Erica? Remy?"

Charlie slid into place beside Remy, frowned, looked round at Remy and Tonks, then shrugged and swivelled around so that he too was facing the other table. He grabbed a piece of toast and chewed it hungrily. He noticed that Tonks was working her way through a pile of toast, as usual, while Remy was drinking milk.

"Don't you ever actually eat breakfast, Remy?"

Remy grinned at Charlie. "Already ate my cereal. You should get up earlier."

"Ate it?" laughed Danny. "You inhaled it."

Charlie pulled a face at them both and grabbed another piece of toast. Behind them on the Slytherin table came the sound of whispering and chuckling. Charlie looked round and frowned.

"What are they finding so funny?"

Remy shrugged. "Oh, they're just talking about me, as usual."

Charlie blinked. "As usual?"

Remy nodded. "Yeah. I'm often their main topic of conversation. They really need to get a life of their own."

Laurence laughed. "No, Logan, we talk about you because you're the laughing stock of the school. Eventually they'll realise how dumb you are and finally kick you out."

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth to intervene, but Professor Dumbledore nudged her discreetly and shook his head. She frowned, but kept quiet.

Remy tilted his head to the left. "Well, they haven't worked out how dumb you are yet, so I figure I have a couple of years at least."

Several Griffyndors giggled and Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows in surprise. Professor Snape suddenly decided that this interchange could prove more interesting than his sausages and watched with interest. Laurence bristled with indignation.

"I'm not dumb, you are."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever you reckon."

Laurence looked around for encouragement and inspiration. His friends nudged him and muttered support.

"Go on."

"You can take him."

"He's just a dumb kid."

"He's too stupid to win a battle of wits. You can take him."

Morgan threw a bread roll at his sister. "Some of us are trying to eat, sis. Don't encourage them."

Arial threw the bread roll back and stuck her tongue out at Morgan.

Laurence smiled and puffed his chest out. "You're right, Arial. The poor fool is no match for my brains."

Remy chuckled. "I'd be in real trouble if you ever used them."

"Calling you stupid would be an insult to stupid people."

"Keep talking, Laurence. Someday you'll say something intelligent."

"Did your parents ever ask you to run away from home? Oh, wait, I forgot. You don't have parents. Don't you have a terribly empty feeling … in your skull?"

Howls of laughter rang out around the room, though mainly from the Slytherin table. Tonks glared at Laurence and grabbed a cup, ready to throw it at him. Remy shook his head at her and she frowned, but put the cup down. McGonagall looked at Dumbledore, who also shook his head. Remy calmly took a drink of milk and waited for the noise to die down.

"Brilliant, Laurence. Did it take you long to think of that, 'cause I reckon that's two hours you're never going to get back. I don't know what your problem is, but I'm going to bet it's really hard to pronounce."

Laurence frowned. "You have no idea what you're doing."

"You have no idea what I'm doing either."

"I've seen people like you before, Logan, but I had to pay an admission fee."

There was laughter from around the room again, along with several shouts of derision hurled at Laurence. Laurence smiled smugly. Charlie balled his right hand into a fist and thumped the table. Danny and Rob watched in stunned silence.

"Hey, Laurence, we just got a call from your village. They're missing their idiot."

"You're a jerk!"

"Noun or verb?"

"There are no words for how disgusting you are."

"Yes there are. You just never learned them."

Laurence struggled for a comeback. "Some people are so dumb, they have to be watered twice a week."

Remy smiled and looked straight at Tonks. "You see, this is the problem with the gene pool. There's no lifeguard. I mean seriously, can you believe that out of 10,000 sperm, he was the fastest."

Laurence stood up and pulled himself up to his full height. "I'm not going to sit here and take your insults."

"Your haemorrhoids playing up again?"

Laurence huffed and shook with anger. "You're so stupid, if you look up stupid in the dictionary, there's a picture of you."

Again, there was laughter from some quarters, and protests from others. Once again, Remy waited patiently for the noise to die down.

"Good one, Laurence. No, really, got to hand it to you, that's a new one on me." He grinned at Tonks, who was looking puzzled. "The only thing is, I'm not the one that had to look up stupid in the dictionary. Oh, and my dictionary doesn't have pictures. What type of dictionary are you using?"

Howls of laughter rang out from all corners of the room, including the Slytherin table. Professor McGonagall had to stifle a laugh, while Professor Sprout didn't bother trying to hide her amusement. Professor Snape nodded almost imperceptibly and very nearly smiled. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled and his mouth twitched into a grin, which he hid by stroking his beard.

Laurence quivered with rage and looked around the room. He grabbed a fork and held it in his hand like a weapon. Remy's eyes narrowed slightly as he watched Laurence's movements carefully in the reflection on the jug of orange juice just behind Tonks.

Snape glared at Laurence. "Fishman. Sit down, or leave the room. Some of us are trying to eat."

Laurence looked to Morgan for support, but Morgan merely grinned, shrugged and turned his attention back to his breakfast. Arial was giggling madly. Laurence slammed the fork back down onto the table and stormed out. Remy glanced over at Snape and grinned at him. Snape merely rolled his eyes and went back to eating his breakfast.

Charlie slapped Remy on the back. "Way to go mate. That shut him up. I've never heard anyone get the better of Laurence in a battle of insults before. He reckons it's his speciality."

Remy just grinned. "Yeah, well I got reminded this weekend that there's more than one way to skin a cat. Or shave it."

-o-o-o-

Remy frowned at Dumbledore. "Are you serious? I don't have to do Sheridan's Dark Arts classes anymore?"

Dumbledore smiled patiently "That's correct, Remy."

"But I thought Dark Arts was compulsory."

"It is, Remy. However, it would appear that the situation between yourself and Professor Sheridan has gone beyond the point of repair. Professor McGonagall was extremely concerned by what she saw when she sat in on your class the other day. As your father would say, it's not paranoia if they really are out to get you."

Remy grinned. "Yeah, he would say that. So, um, does that mean I'm gonna fail Dark Arts?"

Dumbledore waved his hands dismissively. "Heavens, no, Remy. You're actually well advanced in Dark Arts for your age. Remember the test paper I had you do last week?"

Remy nodded.

"Well if that had been an actual exam, you would have passed. Perhaps not with top marks, but you would have passed."

Remy beamed. "Cool."

Dumbledore stroked his beard. "Actually, it's better than 'cool'. That was an Owl exam, Remy. Designed for fifth years."

Remy's eyes boggled as he digested this information. "Woah. Really?"

"Yes, Remy. Really. And this does not mean that you do not need to study Dark Arts. You're just going to have to study apart from the other students. You will need to read various texts and complete assignments. That work will be marked by Professor Snape. He and Professor Flitwick have also agreed to supervise any practical sessions you may need. You will need to discuss your study schedule with them."

Remy nodded eagerly. "No problem, Professor."

"Don't think this is an easy option, Remy. You have shown promise for the subject, and by removing the personality conflict with Professor Sheridan, I expect you to work hard and fulfil your potential."

Remy grinned. "I'll certainly try."

-o-o-o-

He sighed and dropped onto the bed, adjusting his leg and rubbing his good eye. He'd followed these idiots for weeks now, although it seemed longer. They'd trailed from one side of the area to the other, even crossing back across the Ural Mountains into Russia at one point, although Moody hadn't realised they had at the time. As a mountain range with the big job of dividing two continents, they simply didn't live up to his expectations.

In fact, Siberia in general was not living up to any preconceived expectations. The bathrooms were disgusting. Truly, seriously disgusting. And that was by the standards of a man who'd worked in the Ministry as an Auror for more years than he cared to remember, during which time he'd witnessed, and sometimes participated in, some fairly wild parties and battles, both of which tended to result in bathrooms being left in a less than pristine condition. In the settled regions there were huge piles of rubbish by most roadsides, although they were sometimes obscured by the clouds of coal smoke and industrial haze that draped themselves over the towns and cities.

As for the unsettled areas … well, there were a lot of those in Siberia. Empty, desolate areas. The land simply stretched on and on … and on. It seemed endless. He was sure he'd discovered parts of the planet where no one in the history of the world had ever bothered to go. And he could see why. Anything that was wasn't under a permanent frost layer, seemed to be marshy. There were massive swamps, inhabited by mosquitoes, midges, and seemingly invisible biting insects. And the damn things hunted in huge swarms and were vicious. He rubbed his arm ruefully. He was beginning to think pixies were preferable to these ravenous hordes.

The people were more what he'd expected. They lied and exaggerated about anything and everything, yet they were also warm and helpful. Well, reasonably helpful anyway. They drove way too quickly, way too carelessly, and seemed to think seat belts were a fashion statement, and this year seat belts were definitely not fashionable. For the life of him, he could not work out how more of them didn't die in car accidents. On the plus side, he'd also met some stunningly beautiful women. Women with legs that seemed to go all the way up their ears, and eyes so deep and so full of the most amazing colors, he was sure men could drown in them.

He yawned and set his sneakerscope. Time to get some sleep and worry about the midges again tomorrow.


	20. Chapter 19

Halloween dawned as a grey, misty day, and the mist lingered all day, wrapping itself around the buildings, draping itself over the roofs, and even drifting in under the doors. Despite that, everyone was looking forward to the Halloween feast. Small groups of students huddled together to compare masks. A lot of students had taken the opportunity to get creative and had made their own masks. Most seemed to be witches or Frankenstein type monsters. The whole school was starting to look like a low budget horror movie.

Laurence had taken delivery of a quantity of expensive snake masks, and he was being very choosy who he handed them to. Large quantities of jelly slugs and chocolate frogs were changing hands in return for the masks. In stark contrast, Mac had managed to get Sienna to send him some wolf masks, and he'd wasted no time in handing them out to various people, including Remy and Tonks, refusing any form of payment for them. Remy grinned broadly as he tried his mask. It was kind of weird looking in a mirror and seeing a wolf that wasn't Ranger looking back at him.

The great hall was festooned with orange streamers and water snakes swaying in the breeze. There were carved pumpkins of all sizes, some filled with sweets, and some filled with flickering candles. Remy was convinced that Hagrid had used magic to grow them to that size. One of them was so large that Remy was pretty sure half a Quidditch team could probably fit inside it. Live bats fluttered about overhead, occasionally swooping low over a table, causing some of the students to squeal in excitement. At least the girls all claimed it was excitement. They weren't scared at all. Perish the thought. Remy grinned watching them.

As well as the large number of wizards, witches, Frankenstein monsters and skeletons, there were a number of wolves scattered around the tables, though most of them seemed to be on the Gryffindor table in the general vicinity of Mac. There were also various snakes around the room, though most of them appeared to be on the Slytherin table. The Ravenclaw table was occupied by a flock of by ravens, while the first and second year Gryffindor boys seemed to have come as a pride of lions. For some strange reason that Remy couldn't quite fathom, a lot of the girls seemed to have come as fairies or princesses. He wasn't sure how that was Halloween themed, but they all seemed happy about it. In contrast, Remy could spot no princes in the room.

Most of the professors wear wearing gaudy colored masquerade masks. MacGonagall was wearing a very lifelike cat mask. Dumbeldore was wearing an orange, red and yellow mask that reminded Remy of Fawkes the phoenix. In contrast, Snapes mask was black and featureless. Danny lifted his wolf mask slightly and nudged Remy.

"He might as well have worn a bag on his head."

Remy chuckled. "At least he can walk through doorways without ducking. How did Hagrid make it in here with those things on his head?"

Hagrids mask appeared to be home made and was basically a pair of deer antlers. Very large deer antlers. Danny laughed.

"Well, he didn't. He hit the doorway the first time he tried. Dumbledore and MacGonagall had to help him reattach them. No idea where he got antlers that size. I'm just glad I never met the stag that wore them in the first place."

Remy peered down the table looking for Rob. Rob had refused all offers of a wolf mask and had positioned himself far apart from Remy, Matt and Danny. His mask appeared to be a pirate, complete with an eye patch. Remy frowned. He still couldn't work out what Rob had against wolves, and Rob had refused to discuss it. Not that Remy had pushed him on the issue. He hated when people pushed him for information, so he always tried to avoid doing the same to others.

Charlie nudged him from behind. "Have you seen Capella?"

Remy looked along the teacher's table. Sheridan was wearing a zombie style mask that Remy thought suited him perfectly. Lifeless eyes peering through a lifeless mask. Professor Capella's mask also suited her perfectly. It was stunning. A shimmering metallic blue mask surrounded by a collection of blue and purple feathers that swayed and danced as though they had a life of their own.

"Wow."

Charlie grinned. "You got that right."

The feast itself was impressive even by Hogwarts standards. The usual selection of dishes were accompanied by various pumpkin based choices, more desert dishes than normal, and plates of sweets literally littered the tables. Remy wasn't a huge fan of pumpkins, or sweets for that matter, but he enjoyed watching Charlie attempt to try every single dish on the table. Tonks managed to knock over a water jug and almost drenched Erica. Danny got rapturous applause by throwing a succession of sweets in the air, catching them cleanly in his mouth every time. Eventually everyone finished eating and sat chattering happily, wondering what the promised entertainment for the evening was going to be.

Dumbledore clapped his hands quietly, and the room hushed almost immediately. All eyes were focused at the front of the room. Dumbledore looked down the table to Professor Capella and smiled. She smiled back and waved her hand somewhat regally. Several first years leaped in the air as the doors at the back of the great hall were flung open with a crash. Everyone swivelled to look at the back of the room. Pools of mist swirled into the room, wrapping around the tables and flowing under the benches, covering the floor and hiding everyones feet under a swirling carpet of greyness.

Remy heard the clanking noises before anyone else and grinned to himself as he worked out what the entertainment was going to be. Everyone else watched open mouthed as a procession of suits of armor entered the great hall. They clanked forwards, with one stopping and marching in place every few yards, until there was a line of iron knights between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables. The Slytherin and Ravenclaw students scurried over to the other tables to get a better view. When everyone had settled into place, the suits began to dance. For empty suits made of metal, they were actually quite graceful, swaying backwards and forwards and pirouetting effortlessly. Every once in a while, two suits would get a little too close to each other, and a minor joust would break out between them, before both suits bowed to each other and resumed the dance.

The students and professors watched the performance, all seemingly transfixed by the hypnotic dancing. Suddenly, Remy shivered. He wasn't sure why, but he had the feeling something was wrong. He tore his gaze away from the dancing armor and looked around. He blinked in disbelief and nudged Charlie. There, behind the Slytherin table, was a tall column of dark mist, swirling angrily, tendrils of paler mist reaching out across the room. One tendril grasped at a pair of swords hung on the wall, while another tendril grasped a shield. Charlie gulped and grabbed a bread roll from the table, throwing it deftly at his brother.

"Bill!"

Bill frowned as the bread roll hit him and glared at Charlie, before following his startled gaze.

"What the ...?"

Several more students noticed the disturbance and turned to stare at the column of mist. There were various 'oohs' and 'ahhs' from students who believed this was all part of the entertainment. Remy wasn't so sure. This felt wrong. He clenched his fist a few times, making sure his wand was in just the right place. For several seconds, a new hush descended over the room. Even the dancing armor seemed to go quiet. It was Morgan that broke the silence.

"Cool. You think the mist is going to fight the armor?"

"Don't be stupid, Dillon" sighed Arial. "How is a pool of fog going to fight an empty metal shell?"

Morgan stuck his tongue out at her. "Using magic, stupid."

"Fog isn't magic, stupid."

"And empty suits of armor can't dance, but you just watched them dance."

"That was magic."

"Exactly!" Morgan grinned triumphantly, and then dived for the floor as one of the mist tendrils swung towards him, clutching a sword. "Hey! Cut that out. You could take someone's eye out with that thing."

Arial leapt to her feet. "Leave my brother alone, you lump of fog." She hurled a bread roll at the column of mist, but it merely swirled and created a hole big enough for the bread roll to pass through, before shuddering and reforming, darker than before. Arial gulped. "Er, Dillon. I don't think this thing is playing for fun."

Morgan peered out from under the table. "I worked that out already."

Without warning, the column of mist lunged forwards, bending as it did so, until it projected into the middle of the room, casting a huge shadow over the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables. The Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students scampered backwards, away from the column, and the students at the ends of the other tables also managed to scramble clear, but stuck in the middle of the Gryffindor table, there was nowhere for Remy to go. Not that running had ever really been his thing. He grasped his wand firmly and watched the mist, making sure to duck to avoid the tendrils as they lashed out angrily around the room. One of the Slytherin third year boys failed to duck quickly enough and was slammed backwards 20 feet into a wall. He slumped to the floor with a groan and lay motionless.

On the dais, Dumbledore tried calling for calm, but his voice was drowned out as some of the students started screaming and yelling in confusion. Matt dropped his wand in the chaos and dropped to the floor, scrambling around, trying to find it under the carpet of mist. Remy watched the column sway towards the professors, and ducked down quickly to the floor beside Matt, feeling the floor with his fingers. He found the wand and thrust it into Matt's hand, before shoving him towards Tonks on the Hufflepuff table. Well, under the Hufflepuff table. Charlie slid past Remy and started pushing more students over to the other side of the room and relative safety. Between them they cleared most of the middle of the room to safety, before the column of fog parted in two, the larger part looming menacingly over the professors, while the smaller part swung back towards them. Charlie and Remy headed up the table, back towards Bill, Mac, Josh and Danny.

"Now what?" hissed Josh.

"How the hell should I know?" asked Bill. "Pretty sure this isn't the entertainment the professors had in mind."

"We could take it if we work together," suggested Mac.

"Really?" asked Charlie. "So what spell is good for rampaging fog then?"

"No idea," admitted Mac. "But we have to do something. We're running out of room."

Remy glanced behind him. They were very close to the outer wall now, and the column of fog was still heading menacingly towards them. He thought hard. Al had taught him how to deal with any number of strange creatures, but fog had never been mentioned.

"How about rain?"

They all turned to stare at Morgan, who'd appeared from nowhere to join their little group, with Arial close by his side.

"What?" Morgan shrugged. "Just an idea."

Remy looked around. Morgan seemed to realise who he was looking for.

"Laurence took cover under the first table he could find. Wuss."

Remy just grinned. "And you didn't join him?"

Morgan shook his head. "I'm no wuss, you should know that." He shot a feral grin at Remy, yet it was a grin with no malice in it.

One of the tendrils swung towards them and Remy shoved Arial backwards out of its path, ducking and rolling out of the way himself at the last possible moment. He was on his feet immediately, with Morgan at his shoulder.

"You just shoved my sister!"

Arial regained her feet quickly and thumped her brother in the arm. "He just saved me, stupid."

Morgan thought about that, while rubbing his arm. "Well, in that case, thanks."

"Anytime. Now, this rain idea of yours, I reckon we should try it."

"We don't have any better ideas," admitted Bill. "Ok, let's do it."

All eight students aimed their wands at the ever growing column of fog. Beyond it, they could see the larger mass of fog, which was swirling around the Professor's dais, with an ever increasing number of lightning flashes and blue sparks bouncing around it.

"Ready. Now."

Seven voices called out "Aguamenti" and seven wands shot jets of water at the column of fog. The fog simply swirled to one side and avoided all seven jets of water. Remy watched, grinned, and cast his own spell.

"Aqua Eructo." A jet of clear water shot from the end of his wand, but as the fog swirled to avoid it, Remy controlled the water with his wand and drove it back towards the fog.

"Smart thinking, Remy. Aqua Ercuto." Bill aimed his own wand at the column of fog, driving the column back towards Remy's jet of water. The column, squirmed and hissed as it bounced between the two jets, trying to avoid contact. Mac and Josh quickly added their own controllable jets of water, while Charlie, Danny, Morgan and Arial recast their own spells. Remy watched as the column of fog swayed and twisted, seething angrily, bubbling and frothing as the water hit it. Bubbles. There was an idea. Remy lowered his wand and waited for the right moment.

"Ebublio." For a second it looked as though Remy's spell had gone badly wrong, as the mass of seething fog actually increased in size, hissing angrily. But then the column exploded into hundreds of bubbles of fog and water, falling around the room as large rain drops, the fog dissipating as the bubbles burst.

At the same time, a cry of "Meteolojinx Recanto" was heard from Dumbledore's direction, and the larger column of fog swirled around faster then ever, before vanishing from sight with a popping noise.

"Well that was ... interesting." Arial grinned at Remy, her green eyes sparkling with life. "Neat trick."

Remy grinned back. "Thanks."

"Yeah," admitted Morgan. "You're not that bad really. For a Gryffindor. Ouch. Hey, watch it, Josh."

Josh merely smiled and ruffled Remy's hair. "You guys calling a truce to hostilities then?"

Remy shrugged. "I will if they will."

Morgan and Arial exchanged bemused looks, then both nodded, albeit slightly grudgingly. "Truce."

"Back to your common rooms please, everyone." MacGonagalls tone of voice left no room for arguing as she ushered everyone from the hall. "Prefects, make sure all your students are accounted for. Come along now, move quickly please. We have a lot of cleaning up to do. Back to your rooms."

The professors all descended from the dais and started helping people to their feet and ushering them out. Well, all except Sheridan. Remy couldn't see him anywhere.

-o-o-o-

All the way back to the dormitory, Rob was very quiet and stayed away from the other third years. Remy didn't have the time to worry about Rob's mood, as he had the feeling that he was being watched. A few sly glances around and it seemed it was Matt that was watching him, with a strange look of recognition. Matt looked a little odd as his glasses had been bent in the disturbance. The gnawing feeling in the back of Remy's head increased as he desperately searched his memory, convinced more than ever that he'd met Matt before.

When the revelation finally hit him, he actually stopped dead in his tracks. Danny walked into the back of him.

"Watch it, Remy."

"Sorry, Danny."

Remy forced himself to walk forwards, frantically wondering what he was going to do now. He cast a sideways glance at Matt. How had he not realised it before. Matt was the boy in the cafe that day when he'd fully morphed for the very first time. Matt knew he was a wolf!


	21. Chapter 20

Once back in the dormitory, most of the students settled down in the common room, chattering excitedly about the fog incident. Matt sat quietly to one side, fiddling with his glasses. Rob grabbed a book and headed to a quiet corner to read. Charlie and Danny tried recreating the battle, using Russell as the fog, much to Bill's amusement. Remy sat down near Matt and held his hand out. Matt stared at him questioningly.

"I'll fix them if you want," offered Remy.

"Oh, ok. Thanks." Matt handed his glasses over and Remy fixed them with a deft wave of his wand. "I really ought to learn to do that."

"I'm a little surprised you can't," grinned Remy. "You're good at charms."

"I'm good at reading about charms. It's putting it into practise that I'm bad at," sighed Matt.

"Well, if we can find a quiet corner, I can help you practise."

Matt agreed eagerly and the two soon found a quiet spot in the stairway. With a bit of guidance from Remy, Matt soon perfected the spell. he grinned at Remy.

"Thanks for that. I never get to try stuff at home. My Uncle disapproves. He wants me to go to a different school, but my dad was set on me coming here, so it's the one thing my mum stands up to him about." His voice dropped to a whisper. " And don't worry. I'm not going to tell anyone ... about how we already met."

Remy breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks. I'll explain another time." They stood to one side as three second year girls ran past them, giggling madly. "In a quieter place."

-o-o-o-

Life continued as normal. Well, as normal as a school for wizards and witches can get anyway. Remy blew a few more holes in Snape's walls, mostly by accident, Tonks managed to knock a few people over while practising her charms, and Erica almost choked on her pumpkin juice. Gideon managed to melt a cauldron, much to everyone's surprise, as he'd never shown any practical abilities before. Matt kept Remy's secret, and in return, Remy helped Matt practise his spells and charms. In fact, Remy, Danny and Matt spent a lot of time together, either helping each other study, or just having fun. No one mentioned Halloween, although Remy had been unconvinced by the official explanation of "a spell that went slightly wrong, nothing to worry about." Dumbledore had certainly looked worried for a few days after the incident.

Remy was still worried about Al, but between his new friends, his studies, and playing basketball at every opportunity, he managed to avoid over analysing the lack of contact. Remus wrote to Remy every week. Well, almost every week. Full moons always caused delays in communication.

Morgan and Arial were also true to their word, avoiding confrontations with Remy, and even walking away a couple of times when Laurence tried to start trouble. Laurence seethed and yelled at them, but without their support, his attempts to make life hard for Remy ebbed away into empty words and hollow threats.

Remy even went to his first Quidditch match, with Danny excitedly explaining all the intricacies to both Remy and Matt. Charlie caught the Snitch in a new record time, and all three boys practically cheered themselves hoarse. Rob remained distant, which worried Remy at first, but no matter how many times he invited Rob to tag along, he just shook his head and attached himself to another group.

"Don't worry about it. He'll come round. Eventually. Probably when he needs help with an assignment and thinks one of us will be useful." Danny grinned and moved his rook. "Checkmate."

"Damn. I never saw that. You sure you don't want to play, Remy?"

Remy looked up from the newspaper he was reading. "Nah, thanks Matt, but I'm no good at chess. I'll stick to drawing."

Matt grinned and reset the board. "Danny's right. Rob was friendly with me in the first year, always studied with me. He didn't bother so much in the second year, not until the exams were close anyway. This year, he's practically ignoring me."

Danny nodded. "He ignored me in the first year, but then I hadn't read any of the books before school started. He was very friendly last year, always wanting to hang around and joke with people. This year he was fine to start with, but now he seems to want to hang out with Gideon and improve his Herbology. What's so fascinating in that paper anyway? You've been reading it for ages."

Remy looked up, a little surprised. "Have I? Hadn't realised. Was just some stuff about an art robbery in Russia. I was just thinking that a lot of art stuff is going on lately, what with that Van Gogh painting, Irises, being sold for millions at auction, and now art thefts in Russia."

Danny laughed. "You mean you were just day dreaming about how much your scribbles might be worth some day."

Remy grinned sheepishly. "Something like that." Actually he'd been thinking about Al and wondering if he was somehow involved in the strange Russian thefts that seemed to have the police at a complete loss.

-o-o-o-

He stretched his leg out under the table and propped his newspaper carefully against the sauce bottles in the middle of the table. He checked to make sure no one was watching him, before surreptitiously pouring out the contents of his coffee cup into the plant by the side of his table and replacing it with liquid from his flask. He settled back, waiting and watching. It looked like being another long, fruitless day, but at least a cafe in Omsk was better than being eaten alive by midges in a swamp, or losing half his body weight in sweat in a forest so huge you could hide most of England in it.

Omsk had turned out a be a vast, sprawling city. The industrial suburbs would probably have put off the casual tourist passing through, but the gently attractive central core had some fine century-old architecture and was dotted with parks, museums, restaurants and quirky public sculptures, including a 9 meter tall statue called 'Siberian Mother with Her Son'. The sorrowful, bowed Siberian woman with a look of fierce determination and her hands on the shoulders of her son, somehow made Moody homesick, which was a novel experience for him.

He noticed the small, grey haired man when he was half a block away. He was nervous, jumpy, checking over his shoulder constantly. He might as well have had a neon sign over his head saying 'Look at me, I'm up to no good'. Moody shook his head. It seemed the standards in Russian criminals had fallen lower than even he had imagined. After pacing nervously for a few minutes, the man seemed to make up his mind and darted into the café, looking around frantically. The tall blond man three tables in front and one to the right of Moody waved his hand, and the smaller man scurried over and dropped into the seat, panting breathlessly, as though he'd just run a mile rather than crossed a busy street.

"Ilya. Good to see you." Even his voice sounded nervous.

The blond man smiled. "And you, Yakov. You are looking well, my friend."

Moody chuckled to himself. Lies and exaggeration as usual. Yakov did not look well, and he doubted the two men were actually friends. Yakov did not seem to mind the lie. The waitress glided over to their table, and Yakov hesitatingly ordered a coffee. He watched her, nervously of course, until he was sure she was out of earshot.

"Are you sure this is going to be alright? I mean, I could lose my job if they find out I helped you."

Ilya smiled reassuringly. "Of course it will be alright. Trust me."

Moody practically snorted into his cup. Oh, if he only had a galleon for every time he'd heard that.

-o-o-o-

He watched from the shadows, and there were plenty shadows to choose from. Street lighting in this area was obviously regarded as a luxury, rather than a necessity. He had his invisibility cloak with him, just in case, but he doubted he'd need it. The plan was remarkably simple. Ilya was standing guard outside the building, while his colleague had climbed though a loosened bathroom window. The museum either had no intruder alarms, or they were switched off, as no alarm had sounded.

A few times, the inside man had appeared at the window and passed something out to Ilya. Ilya had shaken his head and handed a couple of them back. The rest were propped against the wall. Eventually Ilya seemed satisfied that they had what they'd come for, and the other man clambered back out through the window. Ilya handed some of the items to him, muttered something to him, and then the pair left, in opposite directions, Ilya with his share of the loot tucked casually under his arm.

Moody didn't think too hard. The other man was simply a casual thief brought in to steal what was needed for a cut of the profits. Ilya was the man with the contacts, the one with links to the people he was searching for. He followed, discreetly.

-o-o-o-

Moody read the paper with more enthusiasm than normal. The museum theft was front page news. Police were apparently at a loss to explain it. The thief, or thieves, had expertly forced a small bathroom window, wriggled inside, and headed to the main exhibition area, without setting off any of the intruder alarms. The theft was so well planned that police were convinced it must be the work of a globetrotting art felon with cultured tastes, which would explain why there was such a variation in the paintings taken. It seemed that particular paintings had been targeted, some of which were quite valuable, while some were by unknown artists and of no real significance. The curator was quoted as saying that perhaps there were fewer alarms than there should have been in an ideal world, but hindsight was a terrible thing. There was even a picture of the curator to accompany the report. A nervous looking Yakov hadn't managed to raise a smile.


End file.
